•THANKSGIVING: 

MEMORIES  OF  THE  DAY:  HELPS  TO  THE  HABIT. 


BY  WILLIAM    ADAMS,   D.D 


Kal  ravvv  trapaivu  vfxas  evOv/xeiv. 

St.  Paul. 
If  thou  be  a  severe,  srmr-rffpijiWjgnpH  man,  then  I  here  disallow 

iaak  Walton. 

UNIVERSITY,' 

NEW   YORK: 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER   &   CO., 

654  BROADWAY. 
1867. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  hy 

'CHARLES  SCRIBNER  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


?*r*/7 


JOHN  F.  TROW  &  CO., 

PRINTERS,  STEREOTYPE!!*,  $  ELECT ROTYPERS, 

6  0    GREENE    STREET,    N.    Y. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Introductory  :   Memories  and  Habits 3 

Daily  Marvels 17 

Exuberant  Goodness 39 

Home 57 

A  Cheerful  Temper 79 

Happy  Mediocrity joi 

The  Blessedness  of  Tears 125 

Cheap  Contentment 147 

Balancings  and  Compensations 165 

The  Zest  of  Life 183 

Politics  and  the  Pulpit , 199 

Christian  Patriotism 229 

Lull  in  the  Storm 251 

Liberty  and  Law , . 275 

Independence  not  Secession 293 

American  Nationality 313 

The  Past  and  the  Present t . .  341 


OF  THE  *r 

university' 

INTROTJT^TORY. 


MEMORIES    AND   HABITS. 

The  beginning  of  this  world's  history  was  a  song  : 
its  end  will  be  a  doxology. 

The  secret  of  all  rational  contentment  is  revealed  in 
that  inspired  direction  which  ought  to  be  written  on  every 
heart,  as  a  compendious  rule  of  life.  "Be  careful  for 
nothing ;  but  in  everything,  by  prayer  and  supplication, 
with  thanksgiving,  let  your  requests  be  made  known 
unto  God.  And  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all 
understanding,  shall  keep  your  hearts  and  minds  thro' 
Christ  Jesus." 

While  the  cultivation  of  a  thankful  spirit  is  at  all 
times  commended  by  reason  and  religion,  it  would  be 
affectation  to  attempt  any  concealment  of  the  fact,  that 
the  substance  of  this  volume  was  prepared  with  special, 
reference  to  that  day  in  the  calendar  which  bears  the 
familiar  name  of  Th AM^ruvyNr;  , 

In  the  cathedral  of  Limerick  there  hangs  a  peal  of 
bells  which  was  manufactured  for  a  convent  in  Italy,  by 
an  enthusiast  who  fixed  his  home  for  many  years  near 
the  convent  cliff  to  enjoy  their  daily  chimes.     In  some 


4  Thanksgiving, 

political  convulsion  the  bells  and  their  manufacturer  were 
swept  away  to  another  land.  After  a  long  interval,  the 
course  of  his  wanderings  brought  him  to  Ireland.  On  a 
calm  and  beautiful  evening,  as  the  vessel  which  bore  him 
iloated  along  the  broad  stream  of  the  Shannon,  he  sud- 
denly heard  the  bells  peal  forth  from  the  cathedral  tower. 
They  were  the  long-lost  treasures  of  his  memory.  Home, 
happiness,  friends,  all  early  recollections  were  in  their 
sound.  Crossing  his  arms  on  his  breast,  he  lay  back  in 
the  boat.  When  the  rowers  looked  round,  they  saw  his 
face  still  turned  to  the  cathedral — but  his  eyes  had  closed 
forever  on  the  world.*  Such  a  tide  of  memories  had 
swept  over  the  sympathetic  cords  of  his  heart,  that  they 
snapped  under  the  vibration.  Who  has  not  experienced 
the  power  of  association  in  its  milder  and  happier  forms  ? 
The  return  of  an  anniversary,  the  melody  of  a  tune,  the 
swinging  of  a  church  bell,  will  set  memory  in  motion,  and 
unveil  the  pictures  which  hang  on  her  sacred  walls.  Be- 
cause memory  is  clad  in  sober  and  russet  garb,  many  as- 
sociate her  form  with  sadness.  But  it  is  a  sadness  from 
which  we  never  wish  to  be  divorced.  Peace,  quietness, 
and  "  cherub  contemplation,"  come  in  her  train.  Memory 
is  the  mother  of  gratitude.  Mirth  and  frivolity  are  born 
of  present  excitements ;  but  there  cannot  be  deep  and 
serene  happiness  in  the  absence  of  all  memories  of  the 
past. 

\The  bare  mention  of  the  word,  tile-Old  Thanksgiving 
Day — what  a  power  has  it  to  revive  the  pleasantest  remi- 
niscences, and  recall  the  brightest  scenes  of  other  days  in 

*  Quarterly  Rev.,  Oct.,  1854. 


Memories  and  Habits,  5 

many  hearts !  It  transports  them  to  the  home  of  their 
childhood.  It  takes  them  at  once  into  the  presence  of 
the  father  and  mother  who,  it  may  be,  for  many  years 
have  been  sleeping  in  the  grave.  It  recalls  their  smiles 
of  affectionate  greeting,  their  tones  of  cheerful  welcome ; 
tones  and  smiles  such  as  none  but  they  could  give.  Every 
image  of  peace,  contentment,  competence,  abundance, 
and  joy,  comes  back  spontaneously  on  each  return  of  the 
grateful  festival.  '  JMsji  dayjiot  indeeoMieralded  and 
emblazoned,  like  the  corresponding  festivals  in  our  ances- 
tral  land,  in  all  the  pomp  and  glory  of  sonj£___   It  has  not 


been~ce"TeBrated  like  Christmas,  by  the  imperial  song  of 
Milton,  the  dove-like  notes  of  Herbert,  or  the  classic 
beauty  of  Keble.  Connected  with  it  are  no  superstitious 
rites  handed  down  from  time  immemorial ;  no  revellings  in 
baronial  halls  ;  no  decorations  of  churches  or  houses  with 
garlands  or  evergreens ;  no  wassailings  ;  no  shoutings ; 
~^no^carols ;  no  riotous  dissipation.  Simpler  in  its  nature, 
humbler  in  its  pretensions,  better  suited  to  a  people  of  a 
more  recent  origin,  it  is  set  apart  to  the  exercise  of  those 
home-bred  affections,  those  "honest  fireside  delights," 
which  are  greener  than  laurel  or  fir-tree,  and  which, 
from  a  natural  affinity,  most  closely  harmonize  with  the 
sweet  sanctities  of  our  holy  religion.  As  the  day  drew 
on,  anticipation  was  busy  in  the  young  and  the  old.  The 
aged  pair,  from  beneath  whose  shelter  their  children,  one 
after  the  other,  had  gone  forth  into  the  world,  leaving 
them  alone,  looked  forward  with  delight  to  the  prospect 
of  being  surrounded  once  more  by  their  numerous  pro- 
geny on  a  day  of  gladness  ;  and  children  separated  widely 
apart,  and  already  grown  familiar  with  life's  perplexities 


6  Thanksgiving. 

and  cares,  hailed  with  pleasure  the  "yearly  sacrifice," 
when  they  should  all  rally  again  around  the  paternal 
hearth,  and  renew  their  faith  and  affection  among  the 
long-cherished  scenes  of  their  childhood.  Happy  was 
the  venerable  sire,  who  went  up  that  day  to  the  house  of 
God,  in  company  with  his  children  and  children's  chil- 
dren, and  who  sat  down  to  the  table  of  plenty  with  his 
whole  household,  in  health,  peace,  and  contentment.  If 
any  were  detained  from  the  gathering  by  stern  necessity, 
places  were  prepared  for  them  as  if  they  were  present,  in 
order  that  all  might  feel  how  closely  they  were  linked  by 
invisible  sympathies  ;  and  the  absent  ones,  wherever  on 
sea  or  land  they  roamed,  were  as  "  a  bird  wandering  from 
his  nest,"  or  crippled  in  the  time  of  migration,  looking  far 
away,  and  longing  to  join  himself  unto  his  fellows. 

Though  this  particular  day  has  been  designated  by 
the  civil  authorities,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  in 
the  one  only  national  organization  which  had  God  for  its 
author,  several  days  in  the  year  were  set  apart  by  Divine 
institution  for  religious  festivities.  Spring,  summer,  and 
autumn  had  each  its  festal  symbolism  ;  the  most  joyous 
of  which,  called  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  was  an  annual 
Thanksgiving — not  only  in  memory  of  ancestral  favors, 
but  for  the  ingathering  of  the  harvests.  Nothing  can  be 
conceived  more  beautiful  than  the  manner  of  its  obser- 
vance. Booths  were  erected  in  the  open  air,  with  branches 
from  the  palm  and  willow,  within  which  families  were 
gathered,  to  eat  together  before  the  Lord ;  so  that  the 
occasion  was  sacred  to  the  reunion  of  friends,  the  enjoy- 
ment of  hospitality,  the  interchange  of  kindness,  the 
expression  of  generous  regard  for  the  stranger,  the  widow, 


Memories  and  Habits.  7 

and  the  fatherless.  Nor  was  it  lawful  for  a  Jew  so  much 
as  to  taste  of  ear  or  parched  corn,  or  bread  of  the  new 
harvest,  till  a  nation  had  borne  a  sheaf  of  barley  or  wheat 
and  waved  it  before  God,  in  token  of  their  gratitude. 
Are  we  charmed  by  the  picture  which  the  imagination 
paints  of  that  national  spectacle,  when  the  glens  of  the 
vine  and  olive  gave  forth  their  happy  inhabitants,  to  flow 
together  into  the  court  of  the  Lord,  with  chanting  of 
psalms  and  waving  of  sheaf  and  branch  ?  But  when  did 
the  sun  ever  look  down  upon  such  a  scene  as  has  been 
spread  often  beneath  his  eye  on  this  Western  Continent,  a 
land  unknown  and  undreamed  of  when  Hebrew  feasts 
were  instituted,  when  many  States  have  agreed  to  devote 
one  and  the  same  day  for  Thanksgiving  to  our  common 
Father  for  his  abundant  goodness  ?  What  millions  of 
well-clad,  well-fed,  well-taught,  and,  if  they  would  but  be- 
lieve it,  happy  people,  within  the  temples  of  religion,  and 
the  homes  of  health,  comfort,  and  plenty  !  As  the  mind 
traverses  over  the  extended  scene,  it  rests  not  so  much  on 
metropolitan  affluence,  on  gatherings  in  stately  mansions 
and  tapestried  walls,  where  sumptuous  fare  is  of  daily  oc- 
currence, as  on  the  humbler  habitations  of  rural  life, 
where  man  is  brought  by  earth,  sky,  and  season,  in  closer 
contact  with  God.  Toil  is  at  rest  and  contented  with  its 
rewards.  Plough  and  flail  are  exchanged  for  recreation. 
If  nature  is  more  silent  than  in  earlier  months,  when  birds 
and  beasts  are  full  of  jocund  music  and  life,  it  is  the 
silence  of  peaceful  contentment.  The  rich  autumn  sun- 
light bathes  the  sere  and  yellow  stalks  and  husks  of  corn 
still  standing  in  the  field,  reduced  to  the  undress  of  the 
year,  yet  testifying  of  the  golden  wealth  they  have  yield- 


8  Thanksgiving. 

ed  to  man  ;  barns  bursting  with  plenty ;  the  cattle  chew- 
ing the  cud  with  mute  thankfulness;  families  reassem- 
bled in  the  old  homestead ;  mirth  in  the  voices  of  the 
young,  and  placid  delight  warming  the  ashy  hue  of  age  \* 
what  images  of  serene  satisfaction  are  those  which  are 
presented  by  this  day  of  happy  memories  ! 

Thanksgiving  Day  has  a  history  attached  to  it.  Like 
the  Latin  word  "virtus,"  it  is  a  history  which  runs 
through  the  entire  life  of  a  people.  We  cannot  afford  to 
lose  reverence  for  ancestral  memories.  It  is  to  be  re- 
gretted that  Mr.  Irving,  our  American  Goldsmith,  has. 
expended  so  much  time  and  labor  in  the  prolix  exagge- 
ration of  the  peculiar  habits  of  the  early  Dutch  colonists. 
When  Diedrich  Knickerbocker  extends  an  extravaganza 
through  two  volumes  over  that  portion  of  our  history,  we 
confess  to  a  feeling  somewhat  painful,  mingling  with  the 
keenest  relish  of  the  humorous.  We  need  more,  not  less 
of  filial  respect  and  gratitude  in  our  national  character. 
Shem  and  Japheth,  with  their  mantle  of  charity,  did  a 
nobler  service  than  their  brother  who  laughed  at  the 
shame  of  their  common  parentage.  In  that  transition 
period  through  which  we  are  passing,  it  is  well  to  think 
of  the  primitive  strength  which  is  beneath  us,  and  upon 
which  a  fruitful  surface  invites  and  rewards  our  toil.  The 
origin  of  this  day  was  with  a  people  who  were  exiles  for 
the  sake  of  truth  and  liberty,  and  who  gave  a  soul  to  the 
scattered  colonies  of  the  Western  Hemisphere.  "Te 
Deums  "  had  been  chanted  in  the  cathed  als  of  the  Old 
world  by  royal  decree,  at  the  birth  of  princes,  the  coro- 
nation of  kings,  and  the  issue  of  great  battles  ;  but  the 
voluntary  appointment  of  a  day,  by  a  whole  people,  for 


Memories  and  Habits.  9 

the  distinctive  purpose  of  rendering  thanks  to  the  Al- 
mighty for  his  manifold  blessings,  civil  and  religious, 
national  and  domestic,  marks  an  epoch  in  history. — 
A  -Thanksgiving  day  is  the  festival  of  religious  liberty. 
*\  Removed  to  a  distance  from  all  tyranny,  passing  from 
suffering,  which  called  for  brave  defiance  and  patience, 
into  success  and  enlargement  which  inspired  gratitude, 
religion,  finding  its  freedom  in  the  New  World,  poured  out 
its  carols  at  the  very  gate- of  heaven. 

Among  the  many  proclamations  issued  by  the  Gover- 
nors of  the  several  States  in  the  autumn  of  1857,  ap- 
pointing the  Thanksgiving  for  that  year,  was  one  couched 
in  these  words  : 

"  Since  I  have  been  in  office,  I  have,  in  each  year,  as 
governor  of  the  State,  without  any  authority  of  law,  but 
sustained  by  ancient  custom,  appointed  a  day  of  thanks- 
giving. Thursday,  the  19th  day  of  this  month,  is  the  day 
now  appointed,  and  I  trust  it  will  be  observed.  There 
is,  certainly,  some  super-ruling  Providence  which  has 
brought  us  into  existence,  and  which  will  ultimately  ac- 
complish the  ends  for  which  we  were  created,  not  only  as 
individuals,  but  as  a  people.  Nothing  can,  therefore,  be 
lost  by  recognizing  the  obligation  which  we  owe  to  the 
Supreme  Being — by  it  much  may  be  gained."  With  all 
respect  for  magistracy,  I  call  that  an  extraordinary 
document.  He  is  not  altogether  confident  about  it,  but 
on  the  whole  is  inclined  to  think  that  "  some  super-ruling 
Providence "  may  be  addressed  with  thanks,  especially 
since  nothing  can  be  lost,  and  something  may  be  gained 
by  the  act !  The  idea  of  "  making  something"  out  of 
Thanksgiving  carries  our  national  propensity  quite  to  a 
1* 


i  o  Thanksgiving. 

ludicrous  extreme  ;  and  the  words  "  loss  "  and  "  gain,"  if 
they  do  not  convey  the  nicest  sense  of  religious  obligation, 
certainly  suggest  an  eye  to  the  "  main  chance,"  as  an 
apology  for  the  rendering  of  thanks  ! 

We  are  certainly  a  most  astonishing  nation !  We 
are  very  tenacious  of  our  old  British  privilege  of  grum- 
bling. If  weather  and  business  and  politics  kept  along 
smooth  and  prosperous  all  the  time,  very  many  would  be 
thrown  out  of  occupation.  Croaking  is  their  profession, 
and  making  themselves  unhappy  is  their  habit.  A  man 
ought  to  have  a  very  steady  head  who  reads  nothing  but 
American  newspapers.  He  becomes  familiar  with  excite- 
ment and  apprehension,  and  is  all  the  while  wondering 
what  will  come  to  pass  next.  Mr.  Miller,  who,  a  few 
years  ago,  broached  the  theory  that  the  world  was  nigh 
its  end,  and  like  "  Judas  of  Galilee,  in  the  days  of  the 
taxing,  drew  away  much  people  after  him,"  could  have 
succeeded  with  this  notion  nowhere  else  so  well  as  in 
these  United  States  of  America.  Such  things  are  in- 
digenous to  our  soil.  A  country  like  our  own,  stretching 
over  so  many  degrees  of  latitude  and  longitude,  through 
such  varieties  of  climate,  hot  and  cold,  dry  and  wet,  with 
such  diversities  of  interest  and  manners  among  a  hetero- 
geneous population,  and  with  such  artificial  facilities  for 
flashing  the  report  of  everything  which  occurs  on  a  vast 
continent  backwards  and  forwards,  and  bringing  it,  every 
few  minutes,  upon  the  retina  of  every  man's  eye  ;  why  one 
might  be  excused  who  should  live  in  a  constant  expecta- 
tion of  the  world's  catastrophe.  Rumors  of  a  comet 
whisking  its  fiery  tail  among  the  stars  and  certain  to  de- 
molish our  planet  upon  such  a  day  of  the  calendar ;  a 


Memories  and  Habits,  1 1 

tornado  upsetting  houses,  fences  and  forests ;  corn  in  the 
last  of  June,  all  over  the  West,  not  more  than  three  inches 
high,  when  it  should  have  been  as  many  feet,  alarming 
the  country  with  the  certainty  of  a  famine ;  now  a  drought 
which  bakes  the  furrows  and  burns  up  the  pastures  ;  now 
rains,  excessive  and  continuous  beyond  all  the  memories 
of  the  "  oldest  inhabitant ; "  a  tremendous  inundation  of 
the  Mississippi ;  a  cold  snap  in  May,  which  kills  all  the 
fruit ;  a  popular  election,  when  the  very  foundations  of 
society  are  moved,  the  sea  upturning  its  discolored  depths; 
mobs  in  Baltimore  and  New  York,  bringing  out  the  mili- 
tary;  senators,  counsellors,  judges — names  so  venerable  in 
the  beginning — accused  of  corruption  and  venality ;  good 
old  philanthropic  and  ecclesiastical  bodies  rent  asunder ; 
Shem,  Ham,  and  Japheth  pelting  one  another  with  hard 
recriminations,  and  the  air  filled  with  all  the  menaces  and 
terrors  of  the  old  prophets  ;  to-day,  a  plethora  of  money, 
eager  to  buy  up  the  whole  continent,  and  all  the  islands 
and  countries  which  lie  adjacent  thereto ;  and  to-morrow, 
a  "  panic  "  before  which  the  bags  of  gold  in  all  the  bank- 
vaults  collapse  and  shrivel  up,  like  those  of  wind  which 
Eolus  sent  to  Homer's  hero ;  verily,  one  might  think 
the  world  was  coming  to  an  end,  twenty  times  in  the 
course  of  a  twelvemonth!  But  in  some  way,  I  know 
not  how  it  is,  we  get  along  marvellously  well.  The  sun 
rises  and  sets  ;  the  stars  are  not  jostled  out  of  their  steady 
orbits ;  the  months  are  not  thrown  out  of  step  in  their 
orderly  procession  ;  the  seasons  follow  each  other  serenely 
and  honestly  ;  the  sign  of  the  covenant  is  in  the  heavens, 
bright  and  beautiful  as  when  the  mothers  from  the  ark 
lifted  their  babes  aloft  to  "bless  the  bow  of  God;"  all 


1 2  Thanksgiving. 

the  heathenish  signs  in  the  Zodiac  do  not  prevent  the 
mighty  monarch  of  day  from  bringing  the  year  about,  "fill- 
ing our  hearts  with  food  and  gladness  ; "  and  on  Thanks- 
giving Day,  in  the  golden  autumn,  multitudes  of  people, 
in  the  temples  of  religion  and  in  their  homes,  meet  to- 
gether with  more  reason  and  occasion  for  gratitude — if 
they  were  wise  enough  to  know  it — than  any  nation  upon 
the  face  of  the  earth.  "The  Lord  hath  done  great  things 
for  us,  whereof  we  are  thankful."  If  there  is  one  peril 
more  than  another  which  threatens  our  prosperity,  it  is 
that  indifference  to  our  mercies  which  might  provoke  God 
to  withdraw  them.  May  God  incline  us  more  and  more 
to  that  unambitious,  unselfish,  contented,  cheerful,  thank- 
ful temper,  which  is  at  once  a  medicine  and  a  feast,  an 
ornament  and  a  protection. 

One  of  the  chief  advantages,  we  are  told,  of  the  na- 
tional festivity  of  the  Hebrew,  was  that,  by  friendly  inter- 
course between  different  tribes,  it  promoted  a  spirit  of 
common  patriotism.  If  Thanksgiving  would  but  be 
observed  in  a  becoming  spirit,  how  much  would  it  ac- 
complish in  the  way  of  purifying  and  strengthening  the 
sentiment  of  nationality,  which  was  fostered  by  ancestral 
memories,  cemented  by  the  blood  of  our  fathers,  and 
wrought  into  the  structure  of  our  continent  by  the  hand 
of  God,  in  the  flow  of  rivers,  the  clasp  of  lakes  and  ridges, 
and  the  embracing  arm  of  an  unbroken  sea-board. 

An  excellent  minister  of  my  acquaintance  is  in  the 
habit  of  selecting  the  texts  of  his  Thanksgiving  sermons 
out  of  the  Book  of  Lamentations.  The  elegies  of  the 
weeping  prophet  are  a  part  of  the  Sacred  Volume,  and 
frequent  enough  are  the  occasions  when  they  may  be  used 


Memories  and  Habits,  13 

with  utmost  pertinency.  But  so  it  happens  that  "  Thanks- 
giving " — the  only  day  in  our  calendar  of  the  kind — is  the 
one  in  which  dirges  are  not  so  appropriate  as  carols.  Its 
true  design  is  not  to  furnish  the  pulpit  with  an  opportu- 
nity for  pelting  the  civil  magistracy,  nor  for  indulging  in 
lugubrious  complaints  and  apprehensions  as  to  the  con- 
dition and  prospects  of  political  affairs  ;  but  specifically  to 
rehearse  those  acts  of  the  Divine  goodness  which  should 
inspire  us  with  gratitude  and  incline  us  to  a  cheerful  ex- 
pression of  thanks.  That  man  who,  in  the  worst  condi- 
tion of  affairs,  cannot  discover  material  enough  for  praise, 
is  already  in  a  morbid  and  most  deplorable  state. 

This  festival  was  first  appointed  by  a  people  proverbi- 
ally parsimonious  in  the  designation  of  holidays.  With  the 
exception  of  "  Election  Day,"  and  the  "  Fourth  of  July," 
it  was  the  one  only  holiday  of  the  year.  "  New  Year  " 
came  and  passed  in  the  New  England  States  with  no 
recognition,  save  in  the  present  of  a  new  primer,  and  a 
vague  impression  that  it  was  the  time  for  a  boy  to  make 
good  resolutions.  But  the  last  Thursday  in  November 
gathered  to  itself  all  fragrant  and  pleasant  associations. 
What  extraordinary  sermons ;  what  extraordinary  anthems, 
on  that  day  in  the  old  "  Meeting  House  !  "  #  Without  re- 
proof, one  could  smile,  on  that  day,  at  the  wonderful  per- 
formances of  the  choir  in  those  old  fugue  tunes  in  which 
the  several  parts  were  perpetually  chasing  each  other 
in  a  hard  race,  till  they  came  in  at  the  close,  with  a  gen- 
eral making  up  on  satisfactory  terms  ;  and  even  at  the 

*  This  name  for  a  church  is  not  of  New  England  origin,  as  is 
generally  supposed,  for  the  classic  Addison  uses  it  in  the  Spectator. 


14  Thanksgiving. 

sermon  too,  when  the  minister — that  man  of  black — did 
not  seem  so  ghostly  as  in  other  days,  but  descending  from 
high  mysteries,  talked  of  passing  events  and  familiar 
things,  in  a  style  which  kept  his  hearers  awake  without  the 
aid  of  physical  appliances  j  and  so  the  day  which  went 
forth  with  joy  was  led  in  at  night  with  peace. 

The  reader  will  infer  that  the  foundations  of  the  au- 
thor's mind  were  laid  in  happy  memories  and  associations 
with  the  Day  and  the  Habit  of  Thanksgiving. 

Sufficiently  compensated  will  he  be  if  anything  shall 
be  found  in  these  pages,  which  may  serve  as  a  few  grains 
of  frankincense  on  that  oblation  which,  he  trusts,  will 
burn  pure  and  bright  on  all  our  altars  and  our  hearths, 
on  each  return  of  Thanksgiving  Day. 


DAILY    MARVELS. 


Blessed  be  the  Lord,  who  daily  loadeth  us  with  benefits.  ■ 

Ps.  68  :  19. 
Hfispa  Tt]  7}fxepa  epevyerai  prf/xa. 

tyaA.  irj. 


Daily  Marvels.  17 


DAILY  MARVELS. 

In  one  of  those  books  from  the  pen  of  Mrs.  Barbauld, 
and  her  accomplished  brother,  Dr.  Aiken — "  Evenings  at 
Home  " — once  the  delight  of  childhood,  is  a  chapter  en- 
titled, "  Travellers'  Wonders."  The  children  of  a  family- 
group  are  represented  as  urging  their  father  to  recite 
to  them  some  stories  of  the  wonderful  things  he  had 
seen  in  his  many  voyages.  They  had  themselves  read 
the  famous  travels  of  Mr.  Gulliver,  and  the  Adventures 
of  Sinbad  the  Sailor,  and,  of  course,  their  ears  were 
erect  to  hear  of  something  not  less  remarkable  than 
"  The  Loadstone  Mountain,"  the  "  Valley  of  Diamonds," 
or  the  people  of  Lilliput  and  Brobdignag.  Complying 
with  their  request,  he  gave  them  a  minute  description  of 
a  certain  country  he  had  once  visited,  of  the  habits  of  the 
people — their  dwellings,  their  dress,  their  food,  their  man- 
ners, and  customs ;  and  it  was  not  till  the  evening  was 
far  advanced  that  the  listeners  detected  that,  under  that 
thin  pretence  and  disguise  of  marvel,  they  had  been  en- 
tertained with  an  accurate  account  of  themselves,  and 
their  own  native  land. 

Something  akin  to  this  I  now  propose.  I  mount  no 
telescope  through  which  to  observe  what  Jeremy  Taylor 


1 8  Thanksgiving. 

has  called  the  "  great  constellations  of  God's  goodness  j " 
let  us  look  at  objects  nearer  to  ourselves,  assured  that  the 
greatest  marvels  in  the  universe  are  those  which  fail  to 
strike  us  as  marvels,  because  of  their  commonness.  The 
truly  great  things  of  the  Divine  goodness  are  not  to  be 
sought  for  in  the  affairs  of  empires,  or  in  the  extraordinary 
events  of  our  own  lives,  but  in  those  manifold  arrangements 
which  are  essential  to  our  daily  existence,  but  which,  be- 
cause of  their  constancy,  are  too  commonly  left  out  of  our 
enumeration.  How  many  things,  if  we  would  sum  them 
up,  must  conspire  to  put  us  in  a  state  of  ease  !  How 
many  things,  which  must  all  go  right,  and  that  for  all  the 
time,  to  keep  our  bodies  and  minds  in  moderate  comfort ! 
Let  what  we  call  a  misfortune,  an  accident  befall  us,  it 
becomes  the  topic  of  remark,  the  occasion  of  sympathy, 
for  it  is  an  extraordinary  thing,  thereby  reminding  us  that 
it  is  the  exception  to  that  common  course  of  providential 
dealing,  to  which  we  become  sensible  only  by  an  oc- 
casional interruption. 

Instead  of  straining  after  what  is  remote  and  uncom- 
mon, suppose  that  we  should  begin  the  day,  and  mention 
over  a  few  of  those  many  blessings  which  compose  the 
usual  course  of  our  personal  life. 

The  morning  has  come,  and  we  awake,  refreshed  and 
invigorated  by  sleep.  Did  we  pause  to  consider  how  great 
a  benefit  is  healthful  sleep?  The  inspired  Psalmist, 
amid  the  many  imperial  mercies  which  crowned  him  as 
king,  forgot  not  the  mention  of  this  :  "  I  laid  me  down,  and 
slept ;  I  awaked  ;  for  the  Lord  sustained  me."  Again, 
amid  the  many  afflictions  which  burdened  him,  this  one  is 
specified  as  very  great :  "  Thou  holdest  mine  eyes  waking." 


Daily  Marvels,  19 

Any  one  who  has  been  in  the  course  of  his  life,  from 
any  cause,  subject  to  protracted  vigils,  will  understand 
this  language.  The  eye  held  waking,  the  eye-ball  hot 
and  hard,  and  the  brain  strung  to  its  tightest  tension ;  the 
clock  tolling  off  the  hours,  the  day  at  length  returning, 
and  no  sleep  !  An  occasional  loss  of  this  great  restorer 
is  followed  by  temporary  inconvenience,  but  let  it  be  pro- 
tracted beyond  all  relief,  and  madness  and  death  ensue. 
Consider  how  many  causes  might  intrude  to  deprive  you 
of  your  customary  sleep.  Bodily  pain,  mental  agitation, 
convulsions  of  nature,  perils  from  fire,  and  violence ;  the 
sickness  and  suffering  of  others. 

The  careful  Betty  the  pillow  beats, 

And  airs  the  blankets,  and  smooths  the  sheets, 

And  gives  the  mattress  a  shaking — 
But  vainly  Betty  performs  her  part, 
If  a  ruffled  head  and  a  rumpled  heart, 

As  well  as  the  couch,  want  making  ! 

Neither  is  it  by  any  effort  or  skill  of  our  own  that 
sleep  visits  our  eyelids.  Pursue  it,  strive  to  overtake  it, 
and  it  flees  from  you.  The  best  account  we  can  give  of 
it,  when  sound  and  sweet,  is  this  :  "  I  laid  me  down,  and 
slept.''  It  is  the  gift  of  a  beneficent  Providence.  It  is 
His  own  hand  which  draws  the  curtain,  subdues  the  glare 
of  the  sun,  and  hushes  all  the  noise  of  the  world.  The 
involuntary  functions  of  life  go  on  more  calmly,  more 
smoothly  than  ever.  The  lungs  heave,  the  heart  keeps 
on  without  your  thought  or  care  ;  startled  by  no  alarm, 
agitated  by  no  peril,  you  lie  quietly  in  the  soft  mystery ; 
the  exhausted  energy  of  life  is  recruited ;  that  which  is 


20  Thanksgiving. 

wasted  is  supplied,  that  which  was  wearied  is  restored, 
and  you  awake  like  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race.  As 
Bunyan's  Pilgrim,  in  the  large  chamber  which  looked  to 
the  sunrising,  and  was  called  Peace,  awoke  and  sung, 
leave  not  your  chamber  without  an  ascription  of  gratitude 
to  the  world's  great  Watchman  for  the  gift  of  sound  and 
refreshing  sleep. 

And  how  were  you  awakened  ?  The  light  of  the  sun 
gently  touched  your  eyelids  and  they  opened.  The  light 
— the  light  of  day — the  common  light  of  the  morning, 
what  shall  we  say  of  its  beauty,  its  wondrous  composition, 
its  value,  and  its  blessing?  Wonder  not  that  Milton, 
detained  so  long  in  that  obscure  sojourn  with  "  the  Stygian 
council,"  in  the  opening  books  of  his  immortal  epic, 
should  begin  the  book  which  follows  with  the  apostrophe  : 

Hail,  holy  light,  offspring  of  heaven,  first-born  ! 

For  if,  by  some  sudden  interruption  of  nature,  for 
which  we  could  not  account,  a  horror  of  great  darkness, 
like  that  which  plagued  the  land  of  Egypt  in  the  day  of 
divine  wrath,  should  settle  upon  us ;  if,  when  clock  and 
chronometer  announced  that  the  time  for  sun-rising  had 
returned,  no  sun  should  appear,  and  slow-paced  hours 
and  days  should  follow  one  after  another,  and  neither  sun 
nor  moon  nor  stars  should  break  the  frightful  gloom,  and 
panic  should  seize  the  world,  as  certainly  it  would,  and 
business  should  come  to  an  end,  and  life  lose  its  motion, 
and  men's  hearts  had  failed  from  looking  for  what  was 
coming  to  pass  \  if,  after  such  an  extraordinary  and  terrific 
withdrawal  of  the  light,  it  should  again  break  upon  the 


Daily  Marvels.  21 

world,  kissing  the  hill-tops,  and  then  come  pouring  over 
into  valleys,  illuminating  every  recess,  and  bathing  the  globe 
with  its  joy,  how  would  the  world's  population  together 
lift  up  their  shouts  of  gladness  for  the  return  of  such  a 
visitant!  Light — image  of  beauty,  image  of  gladness — 
how  wondrously  is  it  compounded — painting  everything 
it  touches  in  such  variety  of  colors.  How  remote  its 
birth-place,  how  long  its  j  ourney  of  kindness  !  Yet  though 
it  travels  so  far,  and  so  fast,  accumulating  power  as  it  goes, 
it  is  so  soft,  so  safe,  that  it  impinges  not  on  the  delicate 
eye,  nor  inflicts  mischief  on  the  most  sensitive  surface. 
To  give  us  this  cheerful  illumination,  to  furnish  light  for 
the  poor  man's  toil,  what  a  vast  and  costly  machinery  is 
employed  !  The  whole  planetarium  of  the  heavens  is  pre- 
served in  proper  equilibrium,  attraction,  and  motion — the 
sun,  like  a  mighty  monarch,  leading  forth  his  train  of  at- 
tendant orbs,  and  scattering  joy  in  his  path.  "Truly,  the 
light  is  sweet ;  and  a  pleasant  tiling  it  is  to  behold  the 
sun."     Let  us  not  forget  the  blessing  and  the  wonder. 

Shut  out  by  no  walls,  penetrating  into  the  tightest 
compartment,  on  fleetest  wings,  invisible  to  the  eye, 
comes  another  visitor,  the  vital  tonic  air.  So  curiously 
is  it  composed  that,  if  there  were  the  slightest  deviation 
from  the  right  proportions,  we  must  gasp  and  die.  Many 
seem  to  be  afraid  of  it,  just  as  they  shun  others  of  their 
best  friends,  but  it  does  not  resent  the  insult ;  it  follows 
us  with  its  kindly  offices,  tripping  down  to  the  lowest  cell 
of  the  lungs,  playing  scavenger  to  the  blood ;  throwing 
in  fuel  to  the  flame  of  life  ;  and  verily,  if  we  did  not  put 
so  many  slights  on  this  aerial  visitant  which  has  come  so 
far  to  see  us,  trying  so  hard  as  we  do  to  avoid  it  or  con- 


22      '  Thanksgiving. 

taminate  it,  fewer  hard  words  would  be  spoken  in  this 
irritable  world ;  fewer  infirmities  of  body  and  mind 
would  there  be,  and  much  more  heart  and  tone  to  our 
daily  and  annual  thanksgiving. 

The  bare  mention  of  water — the  water  which  we  drink, 
the  water  in  which  we  bathe,  suggests  a  world  of  wonders. 
Two  invisible  spirits,  travelling  alone,  each  intent  on 
burning  up  the  world,  meet  in  the  upper  air,  agree  to 
forget  their  direful  purpose,  enter  into  partnership  and 
descend  together  in  a  new  form,  to  refresh  and  bless  the 
world  and  its  inhabitants.  We  waste  it,  we  throw  it  away, 
we  despise  it,  we  count  it  the  meanest  and  cheapest  of 
all  things,  but  it  is  one  of  the  greatest  wonders  in  God's 
laboratory.  When  we  stop  to  think  of  it,  pleasant  sights 
and  pleasant  sounds  are  associated  with  it.  In  the  drip 
of  the  rain,  the  glitter  of  the  dew,  the  tinkling  of  the  foun- 
tain, the  splash  of  the  brook,  the  coolness  of  the  well,  the 
tumble  of  the  cascade,  the  thunder  of  the  cataract,  the 
mirrored  surface  of  the  lake,  the  spirit  of  the  mist,  the 
expanse  of  the  ocean,  we  will  never  see  it,  touch  it,  use 
it  again  without  a  thought  of  wonder  and  of  gratitude. 

Refreshed  by  these  constant  visitants,  sleep,  light, 
air,  and  water,  you  invest  yourself  with  suitable  and 
comfortable  clothing.  There  is  not  an  article  you  wear 
which  has  not  in  it  a  lesson  of  advanced  civili- 
zation. The  commonest  pin  reminds  you  that  you  have 
conveniences  which  would  have  astonished  kings  and 
queens  dependent  on  the  product  of  the  thorn-bush.  It 
would  be  too  much  to  assert  that  our  habiliments  are  not 
sometimes  grotesque  and  absurd ;  that  fashion  will  not 
now  and  then  inaugurate  some  appendage  not  altogether 


UBfM 


Daily  Marvels. 


the  most  picturesque  or  comfortable ;  but 
tentot  or  a  New  Zealander,  scantily  clad,  horribly  dis- 
figured with  plaited  grasses  and  coarsest  skins,  and  then  at 
your  own  persons  clad  in  garments  so  curious  in  material, 
excluding  cold  without  impeding  motion,  befitting  in 
shape,  that  savages  almost  invariably  imagine  the  dress 
of  a  civilized  man  to  be  a  part  of  the  man  himself.  The 
skins  of  herds  which  roam  on  other  continents,  subjected 
to  the  processes  of  chemistry  \  the  little  pod  bursting 
with  its  snowy  treasure,  growing  in  the  States  of  the 
South,  the  transportation  of  which  employs  countless 
fleets,  and  in  the  price  of  which  the  variation  of  a  penny 
a  pound  affects  the  commerce  of  the  world ;  the  fleeces 
of  the  flock,  the  manufacture  of  which  into  cloth,  by  the 
nimble  fingers  of  steam  and  machinery,  bring  before 
you  the  sources  of  national  wealth ;  the  little  worm 
which  weaves  its  own  shroud  and  tomb  of  silk,  bequeath- 
ing to  us  a  moral  lesson,  of  consuming  ourselves  in 
weaving  garments  for  others ;  the  little  instrument  com- 
pounded of  wheels  and  springs,  of  steel,  and  jewels  and 
gold,  and  a  few  numerals  figured  on  its  face,  which  you 
put  in  your  pocket,  and  which  promises  to  tell  you,  while 
you  are  busy /what  the  sun  is  about,  and  how  fast  the  nim- 
ble-footed hours,  minutes,  and  seconds  are  tripping  away ; 
all  these  and  a  thousand  other  things,  combined  in  our 
daily  raiment,  suggest  the  marvels  which  are  connected 
with  our  commonest  conveniences. 

You  descend  from  your  chamber,  and  will  you  not 
bestow  one  thought  of  gratitude  for  the  use  of  your  limbs 
and  senses 7  I  ask  for. nothing  quite  so  elaborate  as  that 
argument   for  the  goodness  of  God  which  you  will  find 


24  Thanksgiving. 

drawn  out  in  the  treatises  of  Paley,  on  the  articulation  of 
the  joints,  and  the  structure  of  the  eye  ;  or  by  Sir  Charles 
Bell  on  the  vital  endowments  of  the  hand. 

You  comprehend  the  joy  of  the  lame  man,  healed  at 
the  gate  Beautiful,  by  the  Apostle  ;  he  ran  and  leaped,  and 
praised  God.  How  natural  his  joy !  his  ankles  receiv- 
ing strength,  and  he  jumping  and  running  in  the  use  of 
his  new-found  liberty.  And  yet,  you  have  had  the  use  ot 
your  limbs  for  the  whole  of  life.  Instead  of  being  a 
cripple,  carried  by  others  from  place  to  place,  when  you 
were  a  child,  your  footsteps  were  on  the  hill,  in  the  wood, 
along  the  brook,  across  the  fields,  and  this  very  morning, 
your  limbs  bore  you  up  and  down  the  stairs,  very  likely 
more  than  one  at  a  step. 

Painters  have  studied  long  and  hard  to  catch  the  ex- 
pression which  must  have  overspread  the  face  of  Blind 
Bartimeus,  at  the  very  moment  when  he  was  restored  to 
sight  by  the  miraculous  touch  of  Christ.  First  wonder, 
then  confusion ;  men  and  trees  blended  promiscuously ;  at 
length  a  quick  bright  flash  of  ecstacy — for  he  saw  clearly, 
saw  the  face  of  his  Lord,  saw  the  faces  of  friends,  and 
all  at  last  was  the  glow  of  serene  and  unmingled  grati- 
tude. But  which  is  the  greater  mercy — to  be  restored  to 
sight  after  long  blindness,  or  never  to  have  known  what 
it  was  to  be  blind  at  all  ? 

You  join  the  family  group  and  interchange  friendly 
salutations.  What  a  wonder  is  that  which  just  entered 
your  ear,  and  fell  from  your  mouth — Articulate  speech  / 
Sometimes  a  transatlantic  stranger  will  visit  our  country 
to  exhibit  his  skill  upon  a  musical  instrument,  and  cities 
are   agape  at  the  tripping  trills  and   brilliant  bravuras 


Daily  Marvels,  25 

which  burn  under  his  fingers.  Boast  not  of  that  adroit- 
ness in  the  use  of  f.nger  and  thumb  on  keys  of  ivory, 
till  you  have  considered  more  the  flexibility,  variations 
and  compass  of  the  instrument  which  God  has  created 
for  the  utterance  of  language,  and  the  many  years  which 
are  requisite  in  learning  to  play  upon  it.  With  what 
delight  does  the  ear  of  a  child  catch  the  first  intelli- 
gent sounds  which  are  made  by  the  wonderful  organ  it 
has  just  discovered  in  its  throat !  He  breathes  on  it  again, 
more  than  ever  delighted  at  each  experiment ;  now  with 
this  tone  and  now  with  that,  becoming  familiar  with  every 
stop  and  string,  pleased  whenever  it  acquires  the  utter- 
ance of  a  new  note  or  word,  till  at  length  it  will  coo,  and 
chatter,  and  hum,  and  talk  and  sing,  like  a  popinjay  twit- 
tering about  the  eaves,  and  all  for  the  simple  pleasure 
which  it  finds  in  its  own  proficiency.  Think  it  not  strange 
that  a  child  talks  as  it  does  with  little  regard  to  sense. 
It  is  tuning  that  instrument  which  God  has  called  the 
"glory"  of  our  frame,  and  years  will  be  necessary  before 
it  comes  out  a  master  of  the  great  and  wonderful  art  of 
talking.  The  body  is  not  the  tomb  or  the  prison  of  the 
soul.  "  Ear-gate  "  and  "  mouth-gate  "  are  open,  words 
pass  and  repass,  tones  become  the  vehicle  of  sentiment, 
society  is  established,  and  in  the  power  of  communicating 
thought  lies  the  great  bond  and  cement  of  life. 

And  what  were  the  words  which  first  greeted  you  this 
morning  ?  Kindly  inquiries  after  your  health.  And  you 
were  able  to  reply,  with  thanks  for  the  question,  that  you 
were  well — very  well.  Hold  that  word  a  moment.  It 
drops  frcm  your  lips  many  times  a  day.  Do  not  think  the 
time  wasted  which  is  spent  in  inquiries  and  answers, 
2 


d6  Thanksgiving. 

whenever  you  meet  a  friend,  in  regard  to  health  ;  for  now 
we  touch  what  is  absolutely  essential.  Sickness  overtakes 
you,  the  heart  works  irregularly,  the  lungs  heavily,  the 
nerves  are  sensitive  and  irritable,  digestion  enfeebled,  the 
brain  plethoric  and  excitable,  and  pain  gnaws  in  the  mar- 
row and  the  joints.  What  shall  be  done  that  health  may 
be  restored  ?  No  exertion  is  spared,  no  expenditure  of 
money  is  deemed  extravagant  j  all  medical  skill  is  sum- 
moned, voyages  planned,  every  healing  spring  and  genial 
clime  are  visited,  and  all  that  by  some  means  health  may 
be  regained.  Yet  how  many  years  of  uninterrupted 
health  have  you  enjoyed,  when  it  was  not  necessary  for 
you  to  watch  the  clouds,  or  analyze  your  food,  or  weigh 
your  clothing,  or  take  exercise  by  rule  j  when  you  were 
not  conscious  that  such  a  thing  as  a  nerve  existed,  or  a 
stomach  either,  save  from  the  satisfaction  with  which  its 
simple  and  healthy  wants  were  supplied.  That  illness 
should  occasionally  enfeeble  us,  is  not  half  so  wonderful 
as  this,  that  we  should  pass  through  so  many  vicissitudes 
of  heat  and  cold,  moisture  and  drought,  labor  and  leisure, 
without  detriment  j  that  we  should  carry  this  delicate  harp 
of  a  thousand  chords  through  all  the  roughness,  violence, 
and  collisions  of  the  world  without  breaking  it.  Never 
reply  again  to  a  kind  morning  inquiry  after  your  health, 
that  you  are  well,  very  well — without  an  emphasis  on  the 
word  which  intends  a  special  gratitude  to  the  Almighty. 

And  who  were  those  with  whom  you  interchanged  this 
morning's  salutations  ?  The  living  reduplications  of  yourself. 
Father,  mother,  son,  daughter,  husband,  wife,  brother,  sister, 
friend.  Those  who  know  you,  trust  you,  love  you.  Those 
who  are  identified  with  your  interests,  interwoven  with  your 


Daily  Marvels.  27 

life  ;  who  understand  you  as  no  others  can,  who  give 
you  their  sympathy  and  confidence  as  no  others  will. 
These  are  they  who  make  up  that  endeared  circle  of  home, 
never  to  be  thought  of  without  a  gentler  and  happier  mood. 
It  was  your  own  child  who  gave  you  a  morning  kiss,  your 
own  parent  who  gave  you  a  cordial  blessing.  It  is  not 
strange  that  you  begin  each  day  with  such  a  good  heart 
and  courage,  for  you  have  a  home  which  recruits  the 
motives  of  daily  life,  to  which  weariness  will  return  for 
repose,  care  come  back  for  composure  ;  the  retreat  where 
gloom  is  chased  away  by  smiles,  and  your  heart  feasts  on 
those  nameless,  numberless  acts  of  kindness,  which  are 
the  more  to  be  valued  because  unbought  and  unpretend- 
ing. Think  what  a  hard,  uncouth,  rough,  coarse,  vulgar 
drudge  you  would  be,  without  those  kind  and  gentle  com- 
panionships which  now  soften  and  mould  your  character. 
It  is  not  strange  that  the  great  metaphysician,  Jonathan 
Edwards,  should  have  written  so  profoundly  on  disinter- 
ested benevolence.  The  only  wonder  is,  that  the  severity  of 
his  style  did  not  oftener  relax  into  something  like  humor ; 
when  he,  the  greatest  thinker  of  his  age,  had  for  his  wife 
one  whom  he  has  himself  described  after  this  manner  : 
"  You  could  not  persuade  her,"  writes  he,  "  to  do  any- 
thing wrong  or  sinful,  if  you  could  give  her  all  the  world. 
She  is  of  wonderful  gentleness,  calmness,  and  universal 
benevolence  of  mind.  She  will  sometimes  go  about  from 
place  to  place,  singing  sweetly ;  and  seems  to  be  always 
full  of  joy  and  pleasure,  and  no  one  knows  for  what.  She 
loves  to  be  alone,  walking  in  the  fields  and  groves,  and 
seems  to  have  some  one  invisible  always  conversing  with 
her."     The  metaphysician  metamorphosed  into  the  poet, 


28  Thanksgiving. 

without  his  knowing  it.  Such  is  the  alchemy  of  home, 
that  we  are  led  into  many  virtues  by  means  of  our 
pleasures. 

And  where  was  it,  that  amid  all  these  other  mercies  of 
Providence  you  began  this  day  ?  Within  your  own  dwell- 
ing, with  its  innumerable  conveniences  and  comforts. 
A  house  is  not  a  home,  but  a  home  implies  that  there 
is  a  house.  The  style  of  human  dwellings  is  an  index 
of  the  varied  stages  of  civilization.  Nomadic  tribes 
make  use  of  movable  tents ;  savages  have  holes  or  huts,  exe- 
crable with  filth.  The  "  House  of  Diomede,"  as  it  is  called, 
at  Pompeii,  by  its  very  structure,  with  so  much  of  court 
and  corridor,  and  so  little  room  within,  reveals  the  idea 
of  Roman  life — out  of  doors  and  public,  with  small  do- 
mestic conveniences.  Erasmus  accounts  for  the  preva- 
lence of  the  plague  in  England,  in  his  day,  by  the  con- 
dition of  the  houses.  Very  few  in  all  the  kingdom  had 
chimneys  for  the  passage  of  the  smoke.  Rushes  and 
straw  covered  the  floors,  accumulating  discomfort,  day 
and  night.  It  is  not  strange  that  in  such  circumstances 
Lord  Bacon  brought  his  imperial  imagination  to  contrive 
whatever  was  desirable  in  domestic  architecture.  In  the 
remarkable  description  from  his  pen  of  the  "  House  of 
Solomon,"  in  the  New  Atlantis,  which  was  received  by  his 
contemporaries  as  a  mere  rhodomontade,  we  have  what 
has  since  been  proved  to  be  the  far-reaching  vision  of 
science,  for  there  is  scarcely  a  contrivance  there  imagined 
for  warming,  lighting,  ventilating,  and  furnishing  a  human 
habitation,  which  is  not  in  common  use  in  our  own  dwell- 
ings. Observe  the  house  where  you  live,  arranged  for 
convenience,  divided  off  into  separate  compartments ;  it  is 


Daily  Marvels.  29 

not  a  hermit's  cell  nor  yet  a  tavern ;  privacy  without  soli- 
tude, society  without  turnpike  publicity.  By  a  beautiful 
combination  of  sand  and  an  alkali,  your  windows  are  fur- 
nished with  that  transparent  material  through  which  the 
light  passes  but  not  the  cold.  The  world  is  seen  but  not 
admitted.  Philosophy  and  art,  no  longer  divorced,  find 
their  true  dignity  in  discovering,  inventing,  and  arranging 
those  many  conveniences  which  contribute  to  the  warmth, 
economy,  and  healthiness  of  human  habitations.  When 
the  ancients  lost  their  fire  from  their  hearths  and  altars, 
they  lighted  it  again,  by  means  of  lenses,  from  the  sun. 
Some  may  remember  that  when  the  same  calamity  befell 
a  family  in  olden  time,  resort  was  had  to  that  one  of  the 
household  who  had  acquired  the  knack  of  eliciting  and 
catching  the  welcome  spark  from  flint  and  steel.  As  to 
that  great  convenience  which  modern  chemistry  has 
given  us,  so  economical  of  time  and  patience,  by  which 
light  and  fire  are  afforded  us  in  a  second,  there  is  but  one 
drawback  to  gratitude.  In  ancient  times,  the  smoking  of 
a  pipe  by  an  old  man,  in  the  chimney-corner,  was  the  very 
image  of  cosy  comfort ;  but  the  convenience  of  portable 
fire,  carried  in  the  pocket,  in  all  places,  seems  to  have 
suggested  certain  habits,  even  to  the  children,  sud- 
denly converting  a  whole  generation  into  peripatetic 
chimneys. 

Two  things,  in  the  domestic  arrangements  of  our  metro- 
politan life,  are  greatly  to  be  missed  and  regretted — 
a  fireplace  and  a  bam.  A  city  stable  is  an  adjunct  of 
wealth  •  an  appendage  of  luxury,  set  apart  for  horses,  and 
grooms,  and  footmen.  That  is  not  the  idea  at  all.  The 
place  we  speak  of  was  a  part  of  home.     There  was  it  that 


jo  Thanksgiving. 

we  grew  familiar  with  the  "  honest  faces  of  animals ; " 
there  was  the  meadow-sweet  scent  of  the  hay ;  there  was 
the  bright  golden  corn  stripped  from  its  overcoat  of  felt, 
and  its  underdress  of  silk ;  there  was  the  thud  of  the 
thresher's  flail ;  there  rung  the  merry  laugh  of  boyhood 
and  girlhood  in  their  holiday  freedom — alas  !  how  many 
of  those  clear,  sweet  voices  were  silent  years  ago  in  their 
small  graves,  while  we  are  now  men  and  women.  There, 
on  the  south  side  of  that  old,  weather-beaten,  unpainted 
barn,  the  sun  would  shine  brighter  and  warmer  than  any- 
where else,  and  we  and  the  cattle  chewed  together  the 
cud  of  contentment. 

To  many  of  the  children  of  our  day  the  fireside  is 
rather  an  allegorical  expression.  To  others,  it  is  an  ac- 
tual history.  A  hole  in  the  wall,  through  which  the  heat 
passes,  attaches  to  itself  no  ideas  of  sociability.  The 
old  fireplace,  with  its  generous  supply  of  clean,  honest 
wood,  its  crackling  blaze,  its  ample  room,  symbolized 
the  dwelling-place  of  cheerfulness,  the  home  of  love,  and 
the  altar  of  religion.  There  was  it,  when  the  twilight 
shadows  had  come,  and  candle  and  lamp  were  as  yet  un- 
lighted,  and  the  reflection  of  the  flame  was  dancing  on 
the  wall,  that  you  sat  and  mused — and  if,  perchance,  as 
the  wood  sizzled  on  the  hearth,  your  mind  fell  upon  some 
sad  and  pensive  train,  some  gleam  of  the  mystery  of  life, 
you  laid  your  head  upon  your  mother's  lap,  and  was 
calm  j  and  when  the  evening  had  gone,  the  large  ruddy 
coals  of  the  log,  brighter  than  those  of  England's  Christ- 
mas Yule,  were  laid  in  their  bed  of  ashes,  and  the  gray- 
haired  sire  commended  the  group  to  heaven  for  protec- 
tion ;   love,  peace,  comfort,  joy  and   prayer,  all  beside 


Daily  Marvels.  31 

that  old  fireplace,  where  the  gray-haired  love  and  pray 
no  more. 

Animals  feed  alone,  greedily  crunching  each  his  own 
bone  and  portion.  To  eat  in  silence  is  a  sign  of  bar- 
barism. The  table  where  you  sat  this  morning  is  not 
the  crib  and  rack  where  you  eat  what  is  necessary  to 
support  life.  It  is  the  focus  of  all  courtesy,  the  symbol 
of  all  hospitality.  Not  to  speak  of  the  coarse  and  dis- 
gusting articles  of  food  which  those  in  the  most  abject 
condition  of  poverty  have  been  compelled  to  resort  to  for 
the  sustenance  of  life,  compare  the  delicate,  nutritious, 
palatable  food  upon  your  family  table  this  morning,  with 
the  beef  and  the  beer  which  composed  the  breakfast 
of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  her  nobility.  While  thousands 
upon  thousands  have  actually  perished  from  starvation, 
you  never  knew  what  it  was  to  be  hungry  and  in  want 
all  your  life.  You  have  had  enough  and  to  spare.  Over 
and  above  all  that  is  needful,  as  if  to  give  us  special 
proofs  of  His  goodness.  Divine  Providence  has  spread 
before  us,  every  day,  whatever  would  give  a  pleasure  to 
the  palate.  The  cup  of  which  Cowper  sang,  which 
"  cheers  but  not  inebriates,"  China's  fragrant  leaf ;  the 
juices  of  the  tropical  cane  crystallized  into  sparkling 
lumps ;  the  corn  which  you  watched  in  its  summer 
growth,  with  its  ribbons  of  green,  and  its  tassels  of  yel- 
low floss ;  the  wheat  which  you  paused  to  admire  while 
it  was  yet  green,  the  wind  passing  over  it,  and  bending 
it  in  graceful  waves  as  if  it  were  a  sea  of  life ;  all  the 
"treasures  hid  in  the  sand,"  these  and  whatever  other 
material  there  may  be  in  the  sea,  the  air,  the  stall  and  the 
field,  suited  to  the  use  and  pleasure  of  man — all  these  are 


3  2  Thanksgiving. 

your  daily   aliment   in    this   land   of   God's   exuberant 
bounty. 

While  you  were  sleeping  during  the  night,  so  com- 
pletely divorced  from  the  world,  the  great  world  itself  was 
at  work  to  prepare  for  you  one  of  its  greatest  wonders. 
It  lies  waiting  for  you  upon  your  breakfast-table — so 
common  and  worthless  a  thing  after  it  has  been  read, 
that  it  will  be  crumpled  up  and  burned,  or  serve  to  wrap 
the  refuse  meat  which  is  dropped  into  the  beggar's  basket. 
Yet  in  fact  it  is  a  microcosm,  the  world  made  smaller, 
and  brought  within  the  compass  of  the  newspaper  now  in 
your  hands.  The  fleet  steamers  upon  the  ocean,  the 
ships  on  every  river  and  sea,  the  camels  and  dromedaries 
of  the  East,  the  swift-footed  trapper  of  the  West,  the 
ponderous  engines  which  tramp  across  the  land,  the 
electric  wires  which  throb  over  the  land,  and  beneath 
the  surges  of  the  Atlantic — every  instrument,  every  agent, 
every  vehicle  that  can  convey  intelligence — explorers, 
adventurers,  politicians,  thinkers,  speakers,  actors,  dream- 
ers, advertisers,  all  at  the  top  of  their  speed,  and  huddling 
together  the  world's  wisdom  and  the  world's  folly,  all 
that  this  world  has  done,  and  spreading  it  out  before 
your  eyes  in  that  reeking  sheet,  as  if  it  were  a  moving 
panorama  of  the  whole  earth.  Cowper  has  inimitably 
described  the  marvel  in  his  lines  upon  the  daily  news- 
paper. 

This  folio  of  four  pages,  happy  work  ! 
Which  not  e'en  critics  criticise  ;  that  holds 
Inquisitive  attention,  while  I  read, 
Fast  bound  in  chains  of  silence,  which  the  fair, 
Tho'  eloquent  themselves,  yet  fear  to  break : 


Daily  Marvels.  33 

What  is  it  but  a  map  of  busy  life, 

Its  fluctuations,  and  its  vast  concerns  ? 

Here  runs  the  mountainous  and  craggy  ridge 

That  tempts  Ambition.     On  the  summit  see 

The  seals  of  office  glitter  in  his  eyes  ; 

He  climbs,  he  pants,  he  grasps  them  !     At  his  heels — 

Close  at  his  heels,  a  demagogue  ascends, 

And  with  a  dexterous  jerk  soon  twists  him  down, 

And  wins  them,  but  to  lose  them  in  his  turn. 

Here  rills  of  oily  eloquence  in  soft 

Meanders  lubricate  the  course  they  take  : 

The  modest  speaker  is  ashamed  and  grieved 

To  engross  a  moment's  notice  ;  and  yet  begs, 

Begs  a  propitious  ear  for  his  poor  thoughts, 

However  trivial  all  that  he  conceives. 

Sweet  bashfulness  !  it  claims  at  least  this  praise : 

The  dearth  of  information  and  good  sense, 

That  it  foretells  us,  always  comes  to  pass. 

Cataracts  of  declamation  thunder  here  ; 

There  forests  of  no  meaning  spread  the  page, 

In  which  all  comprehension  wanders  lost  : 

While  fields  of  pleasantry  amuse  in  these 

With  merry  descants  on  a  nation's  woes. 

The  rest  appears  a  wilderness  of  strange 

But  gay  confusion  ;  roses  for  the  cheeks, 

And  lilies  for  the  brows  of  faded  age, 

Teeth  for  the  toothless,  ringlets  for  the  bald, 

Heaven,  earth  and  ocean,  plundered  of  their  sweets— 

Nectareous  essences,  Olympian  dews, 

Sermons,  and  city  feasts,  and  favorite  airs, 

Ethereal  journeys,  submarine  exploits, 

And  Katerfelto,  with  his  hair  on  end 

At  his  own  wonders,  wondering  for  his  bread. 

Loquacious  as  we  have  been — many  as  are  the  mar- 
vels which  have  passed  under  our  notice,  we  have  not  yet 
2* 


34  Thanksgiving. 

stepped  out  of  our  own  dwelling.  Our  catalogue  must 
somewhere  find  a  limit.  But  should  you  take  the  hand 
of  your  child  on  his  way  to  school,  perhaps  you  might  be 
thinking  that  philosophies  which  centuries  ago  were  as 
lofty  and  remote  as  the  clouds,  are  now  dripping  in 
rain  and  dew,  producing  fruits  and  food.  When  you 
receive  your  letters  from  the  post-office,  if  not  too  much 
pressed  and  worried  with  affairs,  perhaps  you  might 
bestow  a  thought  upon  this  cheap  wonder,  than  which  no- 
thing is  more  amazing  to  uncivilized  man — the  thinkings 
of  other  minds,  the  affections  of  other  hearts  made  port- 
able by  means  of  paper  and  pen,  and  packed  away  in 
leathern  pouches,  to  talk  in  lieu  of  the  absent  and  re- 
mote ;  or,  if  business  should  take  you  of  a  sudden  to  a 
neighboring  State,  do  not  accomplish  your  hundred  miles 
and  back  before  your  evening  meal  without  observing 
that  what  was  once  described  as  the  wildest  freak  of  fancy 
in  the  Arabian  Nights  Entertainments,  has  actually  come 
to  pass  ;  for  if  I  remember  the  dream  aright,  it  was  but 
to  seat  yourself  upon  a  certain  mechanical  horse,  and 
pull  a  plug,  and  away  you  were  transported  through  the 
air  with  the  velocity  of  the  wind. 

But  the  greatest  blessing  and  wonder  of  all  is  reserved 
for  the  latest  mention.  Before  you  left  your  dwelling  this 
morning  you  opened  a  book — a  veritable  book,  with 
pages  and  covers,  paper  and  type — a  book,  haloed  round 
about,  if  it  was  an  old  family  copy,  with  a  thousand 
domestic  memories,  and  within  inscribed  all  over  with  the 
lessons  of  celestial  truth.  The  God  who  made  us  has 
so  condensed  and  concentrated  therein  all  his  wisdom, 
and   all  his  love,  that  it  was  needful  to  make  but  one 


Daily  Marvels.  3$ 

book,  and  that  one  he  calls  the  Book — the  Bible.  That 
book,  for  the  preparation  of  which  the  Spirit  who  brooded 
over  the  great  deep  to  form  this  world  of  order  and 
brightness  hath  moved  the  minds  of  holy  men,  guiding 
and  inspiring  their  diamond  pens  ;  that  book  which  has 
been  transcribed  with  slow  and  consummate  care  by 
cloistered  men,  counting  every  word  and  syllable  and 
letter,  as  if  each  were  a  royal  jewel ;  that  book,  which  in 
ancient  times  was  esteemed  so  rare  and  costly,  that  for 
a  single  copy  men  bartered  away  their  castles  and  their 
herds,  but  which  is  now  so  cheap  and  common,  that  it  is 
multiplied  and  scattered  about,  thick  as  the  "  leaves  of 
Vallambrosa ; "  that  book  which  despotism  has  tried  to  kill, 
tearing,  burning,  burying  it,  but  which,  like  the  milk-white 
hind  of  the  fable,  has  come  out  pure  and  brave  from 
blood  and  fire  and  battle,  carrying  in  its  train  all  the 
light  and  liberty  and  hope  of  the  world  ;  that  book  which, 
like  a  chart,  lays  down  your  safe  and  happy  course,  day 
by  day,  furnishing  you  with  all  the  wisdom  you  need  for 
this  life,  and  all  the  promises  for  the  life  to  come  ;  which 
inspires  hope,  pardons  sin,  comforts  sorrow,  diffuses  light, 
invigorates  toil,  prompts  to  duty,  illuminates  the  grave, 
and  points  to  immortality ;  this  one  incomprehensible 
gift  of  God,  wondrous  as  if  it  were  given  us  to-day,  fresh 
and  sparkling  with  the  dews  and  fragrance  of  heaven ; 
precious  beyond  gold  and  rubies,  rich  and  costly  enough 
in  itself  to  wake  the  thanksgivings  of  the  world ;  this 
book  lies  in  every  room  of  your  dwelling,  and  more  is  it 
for  us  than  if  an  angel  sat  in  our  chamber,  and  walked 
at  our  sides,  to  direct  us  in  the  way.  That  book,  which 
pours  its  light  alike  into  the  rich  man's  mansion,  the  poor 


36  Thanksgiving. 

man's  cottage,  the  arches  of  the  cathedral,  the  cloisters 
of  great  monasteries,  and  the  pauper's  attic ;  if  there 
had  been  but  one  man  on  the  earth  who  possessed  it, 
how  would  the  world's  population  encircle  him  with 
wonder  and  envy  !  You  have  read  it  to  your  children, 
that  you  might  catch  the  key-note  of  an  endless  thanks- 
giving. We  have  begun  with  the  commonest,  the  cheap- 
est blessings  of  our  existence,  and  from  waking  in  the 
morning,  with  light  and  air,  and  food  and  raiment,  and 
health  and  reason,  and  soundness  of  limb  and  sense, 
with  home  and  speech  and  friends,  and  blessings  innu- 
merable, our  feet,  ere  we  have  stepped  out  into  the  great 
world,  crowded  with  benefits,  public,  political,  and  na- 
tional, have  touched  that  bridge  of  Christian  Revelation, 
which  connects  the  humblest  habitation  on  the  earth 
with  the  palace  of  the  Great  King,  resplendent  with 
light,  and  resounding  with  the  anthems  of  praise.  Why 
is  it  that,  with  so  much  given,  whatever  be  withheld — 
with  so  much  spared,  whatever  be  withdrawn,  perpetual 
thanks  are  not  exhaling  from  our  hearts  ?  Why  do  we  not 
go  bounding  along  the  undulating  surface  of  life,  duty, 
trial,  care,  privilege,  with  joys  playing  through  us  like  a 
sparkling  sea  ?  "  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  all  that 
is  within  me,  bless  his  holy  name." 


EXUBERANT    GOODNESS. 


Had*  vT€pPo\}]v  els  inrep0o\-fiv. — St.  Paul. 

2  Cor.  iv.  17. 


II. 

EXUBERANT  GOODNESS. 

In  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Proverbs  we 
have  a  most  lively  personification  of  Wisdom.  The 
poetry  of  all  languages  furnishes  nothing  more  spirited 
or  pleasing.  Before  the  mountains  were  settled,  and  the 
hills  brought  forth  j  when  there  were  no  fountains  and  no 
depths ;  when  as  yet  the  earth  and  the  fields  and  the 
firmament  were  not ;  "  then,"  says  Wisdom,  "  I  was  with 
the  Almighty  as  one  brought  up  with  him  ;  and  I  was 
daily  his  delight,  rejoicing  always  before  him.  Rejoicing 
in  the  habitable  part  of  the  earth,  and  my  delights  were 
with  the  sons  of  men."  In  this  most  animated  descrip- 
tion there  is  one  sentiment  too  beautiful  to  lie  concealed 
in  an  imperfect  translation.  It  occurs  in  that  word  which 
represents  Wisdom  as  rejoicing  in  the  presence  of  the 
Creator  and  throughout  the  world  which  he  has  made. 
In  the  original  the  image  is  that  of  a  child  playing  in  ex- 
cess of  glee  and  sportive ness,  in  the  company  of  its  own 
parent.  That  is  the  word — playing !  Some  translators, 
aiming  at  great  exactness,  have  rendered  it  "  dancing," 
and  "  laughing  j "  but  the  authors  of  our  English  version, 
deeming  the  literal  translation  unsuited  to  the  dignity  of 
the  personification,  have  contented   themselves  with  the 


40  Thanksgiving. 

more  quiet  word — rejoicing;  but  the  image  which  the  word 
presents  is  that  of  a  child,  the  object  of  parental  delight, 
leaping  and  running  in  exuberance  of  spirits,  unable  to 
express  all  its  overflowing  pleasure.  And  this  is  the 
figure  which  represents  the  creative  power  by  which  the 
world  was  made  ;  the  pleasure  of  the  Almighty  when  he 
swept  the  graceful  curves  of  the  globe,  sloped  the  swell 
of  the  hills,  wove  the  tresses  of  the  woods,  and  gave  to  the 
sea  its  easy  swing.  This  is  the  form  which  descends 
also  to  the  habitable  parts  of  the  earth,  as  if  it  could  not 
find  room  enough  for  its  illimitable  delights,  playing — we 
must  retain  the  word — like  the  sweet-flowings  of  the  air  all 
over  the  world  it  would  bless,  and  making  expressions,  in 
every  way,  of  its  own  boundless  pleasure.  The  only 
living  and  true  God  is  not  like  Brahma,  cold,  indifferent, 
and  passionless,  sleeping  upon  the  stars;  the  ocean  is 
not  so  full  of  currents  as  is  the  heart  of  our  Maker  with 
delight,  in  the  contemplation  of  his  own  works. 

Dr.  Paley  has  constructed  an  admirable  argument  in 
proof  of  the  goodness  of  God,  from  the  evident  design 
of  what  he  has  made.  Excellent  for  its  own  purposes  as 
the  treatise  is,  its  only  defect  is  that  it  is  set  to  a  key  too 
low.  It  is  necessarily  scholastic,  and,  to  a  certain  degree, 
frigid.  It  might  have  had  more  of  poetic  fervor  without 
impairing  its  logic,  or  diluting  its  sound  and  wholesome 
sense.  The  lenses  of  the  eye  and  the  articulations  of 
the  bones  furnish,  indeed,  a  resistless  proof  of  the  Divine 
goodness  ;  but  mere  utility  does  not  describe  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  the  Almighty  has  employed  his  creative 
skill.  Delight  was  in  his  own  mind,  and  how  much  has 
he  done  to  confer  delight  upon  others.     He  has  trans- 


Exuberant  Goodness.  41 

cended  all  the  conditions  of  a  bare  and  frigid  necessity. 
Ten  thousand  things  has  he  made,  ten  thousand  things 
has  he  given,  which  were  never  necessary  at  all,  the  expres- 
sions of  his  own  superabundance,  and  the  proof  that  he 
seeks  our  special  pleasure.  The  genius  of  Jeremy  Taylor, 
exuberant  as  a  vine  spreading  all  over  the  courts  of  the 
Lord,  was  better  suited  to  discourse  on  such  a  theme  than 
was  William  Paley,  even  though  the  excellent  Dean  was 
the  embodiment  of  all  cheerfulness  and  good  humor. 

Mr.  Carlyle  has  somewhere  said,  that  a  man  should 
put  himself  at  zero,  and  then  reckon  every  degree  ascend- 
ing from  that  point  as  an  occasion  for  thanks.  Precisely 
on  this  scale  do  the  Scriptures  compute  our  mercies. 
Demerit  places  us  at  the  very  nadir.  Every  step  we  take 
frcm  the  point  where  conscious  unworthiness  would 
consign  us,  should  call  for  an  offering  of  gratitude,  what- 
ever envied  heights  may  tower,  unreached,  above  us. 
"  It  is  of  the  Lord's  mercies  that  we  are  not  consumed." 
"  Why  should  a  living  man  complain  ? "  So  begins  the 
anthem  of  thanks,  at  its  lowest  note  of  all,  "  We  are 
alive — we  are  not  consumed."  We  are  all  of  us  far,  far 
above  the  extremest  point ;  therefore,  let  each,  from  the 
place  where  he  stands,  strike  in  with  his  own  melody,  till 
the  accumulated  song  rises  higher  and  higher,  like  the 
lark  circling  towards  the  skies.  "  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my 
soul,  who  forgiveth  all  thine  iniquities,  who  healeth  all  thy 
diseases,  who  redeemeth  thy  life  from  destruction,  who 
satisfieth  thy  mouth  with  good  things,  who  crowneth  thee 
with  loving-kindness  and  tender  mercies." 

Standing  on  the  very  lowest  conditions  of  content- 
ment, in  possession  of  life,  food,  and  raiment,  every  rea- 


42  Thanksgiving. 

son  have  we  for  gratitude  ;  how  much  more  when  we  con- 
sider the  acts  of  God's  goodness  which  are  over  and 
above  all  that  is  necessary,  designed  solely  and  expressly 
for  our  pleasure. 

The  point  to  which  we  look,  is  not  so  much  the  pleas- 
ure which  God  enjoys  in  the  exercise  of  his  own  powers, 
the  expression  of  his  own  goodness  ;  though  this  were  a 
noble  theme  by  itself.  Great  delights  must  have  thrilled 
the  heart  of  Raphael  when  he  had  finished  his  immortal 
picture  of  the  Transfiguration  ;  Canova  and  Thorwaldsen 
must  have  felt  a  joy  beyond  all  the  pleasures  of  sense, 
when  they  had  brought  out  from  the  marble  block  the 
statues  of  the  great  and  good  :  but  this  satisfaction  was 
as  a  drop  to  the  sea,  compared  to  the  delight  of  God 
when  he  created  such  minds  as  Milton  and  Newton  and 
Pascal  and  Fenelon  and  Melanchthon  and  Herbert,  or 
when  he  made  manifestation  of  himself  in  the  gospel 
of  Jesus  Christ,  waking  the  harmonies  of  the  skies, 
sweeter  and  louder  than  on  the  morning  of  creation. 
This  would  be  a  glorious  theme  by  itself,  and  useful 
withal,  since  it  would  correct  the  theology  of  those  who 
misunderstand  the  saying  that  God  made  all  things  for 
his  own  glory,  as  if  that  were  ignoble,  forgetting  that 
what  is  the  vanity  of  display  in  man,  in  God  is  but  the  ex- 
pression of  Infinite  Love,  and  the  pleasure  which  attends 
its  exercise. 

This,  however,  is  not  our  theme  just  now,  so  much  as 
its  sister  and  counterpart — the  manifold  objects  which  God 
has  made  for  our  pleasure  merely,  above  all  the  demands 
of  necessity.  The  goodness  of  a  parent  is  justified  when 
he  provides  all  that  is  useful  and  indispensable  for  his 


Exuberant  Goodness.  43 

child  ;  but  how  many  things  he  bestows  upon  that  child, 
for  his  special  gratification,  which  are  not  needful  at  all. 
If  we  set  out  upon  this  course  of  thought,  language  will 
confess  its  inadequacy  to  measure  the  "miracles  of  this 
infinity."  "  The  little  drops  which  run  over,  though  they 
be  not  much  in  themselves,  yet  they  tell  that  the  vessel 
is  full,  and  can  express  the  greatness  of  the  shower  no 
otherwise  but  by  spilling,  and  in  artificial  expressions  and 
runnings  over."  *  Our  cup  runneth  over.  Sometimes  we 
fall  into  depression,  when  we  can  hardly  see  that  anything 
good  remaineth  ;  we  travel  from  Dan  to  Beersheba  and  say 
that  it  is  all  barren,  but  if  we  only  had  an  eye  to  dis- 
cern what  is  good  and  beautiful,  we  should  be  astonished 
at  the  exuberance  and  profusion  with  which  our  Maker 
has  furnished  and  decorated  the  world  we  live  in.  There 
are  some  people,  good  in  their  way,  who  never  hear  the 
word  "  beauty  "  without  a  revulsion,  and  taste  is  something 
to  be  looked  upon  with  suspicion.  It  is,  indeed,  greatly 
to  be  lamented  that  beauty  and  taste  have  so  often  been 
perverted  by  irreligious  associations ;  but  did  it  never  occur 
to  persons  of  such  a  temper  to  wonder  why  God  has 
lavished  such  profuseness  of  beauty  in  all  his  works  ? 
He  has  not  left  the  walls  and  the  rafters  of  the  earth  bare 
and  sightless,  but  has  decorated  them  all  over  with  divine 
skill,  and  the  attributes  of  our  Maker  seem  not  to  have 
reached  the  region  of  highest  joy  till,  passing  the  rugged 
acts  of  necessity,  they  disport  in  the  free  play  of  affluent 
generosity. 

Let  us  not  imitate  Baillie  Jarvie,  who  could  not  look 
upon  a  sparkling  lake  without  pronouncing  it  a  pity  that 
*  Jeremy  Taylor. 


44  Thanksgiving. 

so  much  good  soil  should  lie  useless  under  the  water ; 
who  never  could  see  a  wood,  without  computing  how  much 
lumber  it  would  make  ;  or  a  moss-covered  rock,  without 
forecasting  how  much  building  stone  it  would  turn  out ; 
or  a  cataract  like  Terni  or  Niagara,  without  satisfying 
himself  how  much  water-power  it  would  supply  for  manu- 
facturing. It  is  scarcely  credible  how  few  people,  even 
in  what  are  called  the  educated  classes,  enjoy  anything. 
A  recent  writer  in  the  London  Quarterly  tells  the  story 
of  Lord  Melbourne  and  a  young  guardsman  going  with 
some  ladies  to  an  entertainment.  Next  day  the  guards- 
man complained  that  the  evening  had  been  stupid,  and 
that  there  had  been  nothing  to  see.  "  Nothing  to  see  !  " 
exclaimed  the  good-tempered  nobleman.  "Were  there 
not  the  lobsters  in.  the  fish-shops  to  look  at  as  we  went 
along  ? "  Melbourne  was  one  of  the  few  men  who  knew 
how  to  enjoy ;  and  if  every  man  would  only  educate  his 
eye  to  discern  beauty  in  common  objects,  and  when  he 
had  detected  it  would  take  his  wife  and  children  to  see 
it  too,  this  world  would  be  very  different  from  what  it 
now  is. 

There  are  the  flowers,  wee  things,  clad  in  glory  which 
shames  the  robes  and  regalia  of  kings.  There  was  no 
necessity  for  their  brilliant  beauties,  or  their  luxurious 
perfume  ;  but  God  has  scattered  them  with  a  liberal  hand 
all  over  the  earth,  precisely  as  you  hang  a  gem  on  the 
person  of  your  child,  simply  and  solely  for  her  special 
gratification. 

God  might  have  made  the  earth  bring  forth 

Enough  for  great  and  small, 
The  oak-tree  and  the  cedar-tree, 

Without  a  flower  at  all. 


Exuberant  Goodness.  45 

We  might  have  had  enough,  enough 

For  every  want  of  ours, 
For  luxury,  medicine  and  toil, 

And  yet  have  had  no  flowers. 

The  ore  within  the  mountain  mine 

Requireth  none  to  grow, 
Nor  doth  it  need  the  lotus-flower 

To  make  the  river  flow. 

The  clouds  might  give  abundant  rain, 

The  nightly  dews  might  fall, 
And  the  herb  which  keepeth  life  in  man 

Might  yet  have  drunk  them  all. 

Then  wherefore,  wherefore,  were  they  made, 

All  dyed  with  rainbow-light, 
All  fashioned  with  supremest  grace, 

Upspringing  day  and  night : 

Springing  in  valleys  green  and  low, 

And  on  the  mountains  high, 
And  in  the  silent  wilderness 

Where  no  man  passes  by  ? 

Our  outward  life  requires  them  not — 

Then  wherefore  had  they  birth  ? 
To  minister  delight  to  man, 

To  beautify  the  earth." 

Distrust  and  despondency  there  cannot  be,  when  one 
has  taught  his  eye  to  read  the  beautiful  lesson  of  the 
flowers ;  for  thus  it  runneth :  "  He  that  careth  enough  for 
me  to  bestow  such  inimitable  luxuries,  surely  will  not 
withhold  what  is  absolutely  necessary." 

So  of  the  fruits,  so  pleasant  to  the  eye  and  to  the 
taste.    God  might  have  withheld  them  all,  and  yet  no  im- 


46  Thanksgiving. 

putation  be  cast  upon  his  generosity.  The  commonest 
esculent  necessary  for  subsistence  cannot  grow  without 
its  blossom ;  as  if  beauty  invariably  waited  on  utility. 
The  homely  potato  cannot  begin  its  under-ground  useful- 
ness till  it  has  sent  up  into  the  air  a  flower  of  delicate 
hue,  to  promise  its  coming  ;  and  the  corn  hangs  out  its 
tassels  of  softest  silk,  and  when  the  southwest  wind  plays 
through  its  tresses  and  banners,  they  wave  and  flaunt  as 
if  they  had  delight  in  the  grace  of  motion.  But  when  all 
the  sober  and  honest  vegetables  and  grains  which  we  are 
accustomed  to  regard  as  the  necessaries  of  life  are  be- 
stowed, above  and  beyond  them  all  are  the  fruits,  which, 
for  the  delight  they  afford  our  every  sense,  must  be  es- 
teemed as  designed  to  afford  us  a  special  pleasure.  How 
grateful  to  the  eye  in  their  varied  forms  and  colors,  hang- 
ing from  the  vine,  pendent  on  the  tree,  half  hid  in  the 
leafy  shrub,  cluster,  berry,  pulp,  juice  ;  red,  golden,  russet, 
scarlet,  and  all  the  shades  between,  as  if  all  the  colors  of 
the  sky  and  all  the  sweetness  of  the  earth  had  agreed 
together  to  fashion  something  which  could  tell  the  child 
of  God  how  much  his  Father  delighted  to  please  him. 

Plainly  enough  the  ear  was  constructed  most  curious- 
ly for  the  transmission  of  sound  j  and  it  might  have  sub- 
served all  the  necessities  of  life  without  ever  having 
caught  one  of  those  strains  of  music,  one  of  those  sobs  of 
the  sea,  one  of  those  plaintive  cadences  of  the  wind,  which 
now  diffuse  through  the  sensitive  frame  the  delicious 
sense  of  melody.  The  conformation  of  the  organ,  its  cells 
and  tubes  and  drum,  would  have  attested  the  skill  of  our 
Maker  as  well,  if  it  had  served  only  to  report  those  dull 
sounds  which  relate  to  needful  work ;  but  we  begin  to 


Exuberant  Goodness.  ^rj 

think  of  something  more  than  skill,  even  of  goodness 
playing  in  its  own  exuberance,  when,  as  Milton  writes  in 
style  suited  to  the  theme,  we  are 

Lapped  in  soft  Lydian  airs 
Married  to  immortal  verse, 
Such  as  the  meeting  soul  may  pierce, 
In  notes,  with  many  a  winding  bout 
Of  linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out, 
With  wanton  heed  and  giddy  cunning 
The  melting  voice  thro'  mazes  running, 
Untwisting  all  the  chains  that  tie 
The  hidden  soul  cf  harmony. 

He  who  can  sing,  or  he  who  can  feel  the  thrill  of  song, 
as  Milton  did  at  the  organ,  has  an  argument  for  God's 
superabundant  goodness  before  which  infidelity  should 
flee  away. 

"  Beasts  and  all  cattle,  creeping  things  and  flying 
fowl,"  objects  introduced  by  name  in  one  of  the  sacred 
lyrics,  are  invited  to  join  in  the  chorus  of  universal  praise. 
All  these  might  have  met  the  ends  and  offices  of  their 
existence,  according  to  any  scheme  of  utilitarianism, 
even  if  they  had  been  made  to  plod  or  sleep  through  a 
joyless  existence ;  while  in  truth,  the  gambols  of  the 
whole  animal  creation  are  forever  expressing  how  much 
of  pleasure  belongs  to  their  lot.  It  is  a  morning  in  the 
spring,  warm  and  sunny ;  the  air  is  all  alive  with  in- 
sects, sporting  in  jocund  life,  whose  existence  seems  to 
us  nothing  but  pleasure  ;  and  the  birds — those  teachers 
whom  Christ  has  placed  beside  the  lilies,  whose  brilliant 
plumage  and  graceful  shapes  often  remind  us  of  the 
flowers,  endowed  with  life  and  motion — fairly  shriek  out 


48  Thanksgiving. 

their  delight,  as  they  skim  and  sail  and  shoot  about,  as  if 
making  fun  of  all  the  laws  of  nature.  "  The  poppies  and 
the  corn-blades,"  as  we  read  in  Sir  Philip  Sydney's  De- 
fence of  Poesy,  "  might  chide  the  lark  for  flying  so  high, 
striving  and  straining  after  mere  air,  losing  its  time,  and 
bringing  back  nothing  but  weary  wings  and  an  empty 
stomach,"  but  her  sweet  voice  and  soaring  wings  belong 
to  God,  and  she  goes  up  circling  higher  and  higher  to 
pour  out  her  jubilant  song  at  the  very  gate  of  heaven  ; 
and  the  "  Bobolink,"  that  jolly  favorite  of  boyhood,  would 
have  performed  its  office  as  well  in  clearing  the  ground  and 
trees  of  noxious  grubs,  if  it  had  been  unfurnished  with 
those  liquid  notes  which  come  trilling  out  of  its  throb- 
bing throat,  when  seated  on  that  slender  top  bough  which 
is  even  now  "  tilting  up  and  down  with  his  effort  in  that 
last  joyous  cadenza."  See  the  lambs  on  the  hill-side, 
walking  up  together  so  soberly,  like  a  company  of  chil- 
dren making  a  business  of  play,  and  then  of  a  sudden 
wheeling  short  about  and  scampering  down  so  full  of 
glee  ;  they  would  have  supplied  joints  for  your  table,  and 
fleeces  for  your  coat,  without  that  exuberant  joy.  The 
trout  in  the  stream  would  subserve  the  use  of  man  for  food 
just  as  well  if  it  had  been  made  stiff  and  shapeless  as  a 
stick,  instead  of  springing  through  the  sparkling  stream,  in 
the  fulness  of  elastic  life  ;  and  the  brook  itself  could  have 
turned  a  mill-wheel  or  watered  a  meadow,  if  it  ran  more 
straight  and  grave  like  an  artificial  canal,  instead  of  wind- 
ing about  at  its  own  sweet  will,  falling  every  now-and-then 
over  the  rocks,  and,  like  a  child,  laughing  at  its  own  tum- 
ble, composing  itself  to  a  more  decorous  deportment,  and 
tripping  away  among  the  grass  with   so  many  musical 


Exuberant  Goodness.  49 

murmurs.  The  clover  might  have  been  just  as  succulent 
for  pasturage,  if  it  had  not  been  half  so  fair  and  fragrant 
as  it  new  is ;  and  the  sky  might  have  served  as  well  for 
a  canopy,  if  it  had  been. one  cold,  melancholy  blue  in- 
stead of  an  ever-shifting  panorama  of  royal  colors,  with 
sun-rising  and  sun-setting  of  imperial  splendors,  and  spark- 
ling by  night  with  all  the  glory  of  the  stars.  We  begin 
now  to  comprehend  why,  in  one  of  the  Psalms,  the  sun 
and  the  moon,  the  waters  and  the  stars  of  light,  snow 
and  hail,  and  wind  and  vapor,  hills  and  trees,  heights 
and  depths,  are  summoned  to  the  act  of  praising  their 
Maker,  for  they  all  are  but  different  expressions  of  God's 
exuberant  delight. 

He  who  discerns  with  a  well-trained  eye  what  abun- 
dance of  beauty  is  in  all  the  works  of  God,  will  acknowl- 
edge the  method  by  which  we  may  cultivate  the  art  of 
being  happy.  Playfulness  of  spirit  is  an  expression  very 
likely  to  be  misunderstood,  because  we  put  an  ill  sense 
into  good  words ;  but  the  true  idea  denoted  by  this  ex- 
pression is  grand  and  holy.  The  life  of  God  is  one  of 
delight ;  and  man,  with  all  his  culture  and  attainments, 
falls  short  of  his  proper  nature  if  he  does  not  reach  a 
positive  pleasure.  A  disposition  to  find  delight  in  all 
things  is  akin  to  high-toned  religion.  The  beauty  which 
pervades  the  works  of  God  is  but  an  image  of  the 
higher  beauty  of  His  moral  kingdom,  the  harmonies  and 
ravishments  of  that  Redemption  which  reconciles  man  to 
a  lost  felicity.  Man  reaches  the  true  life  of  the  soul  when, 
emerging  from  the  necessary  conditions  of  penitence,  dis- 
cipline, restraint,  his  heart  plays  freely  and  joyfully  in  the 
midst  of  all  that  is  fair,  and  generous,  and  noble,  and 
3 


50  Thanksgiving, 

good.  Humor  is  a  gift  of  nature  :  it  should  be  controlled 
and  used,  not  destroyed.  It  is  the  oil  of  the  machinery 
which  otherwise  would  grate  and  wear.  To  be  tho- 
roughly trained  and  remain  thoroughly  natural,  like  a 
child,  is  the  rare  greatness  of  a  man.  He  who  knows 
how  to  enjoy,  will  find  so  much  pleasure  in  the  simplest 
and  the  commonest  objects,  that  he  will  never  feel  the 
need  of  an  artificial  stimulus. 

One  argument  against  theatrical  entertainments  is,  that 
they  are  elaborate  imitations  of  nature.  They  are  called 
the  playy  but  in  fact  they  are  a  toil.  Of  pomps  and 
masquerades  Goldsmith  has  well  said  that 

toiling  pleasure  sickens  into  pain, 

And  e'en  while  fashion's  brightest  arts  decoy, 
The  heart,  distrusting,  asks  if  this  be  joy  ? 

There  is  something  incongruous  in  the  idea  of  playing  to 
fulfil  a  contract ;  of  working  up  the  spirits  by  an  artifi- 
cial process  for  which  one  must  pay  as  for  services  ren- 
dered. Play  must  be  simple  and  natural,  and  if  we  paid 
more  attention  to  those  innocent  instincts  with  which 
Creative  Wisdom  has  endowed  us ;  if  tastes  were  simpler 
and  pleasures  less  artificial,  and  our  senses  were  quicker 
to  catch  the  beauties  which  God  has  created  so  profusely, 
there  would  be  far  less  difficulty  than  has  been  imagined 
in  the  attempt  to  reconcile  true  pleasure  and  religious 
obligations. 

Home  is  the  proper  centre  of  all  innocent  delights  ; 
and  that  man  is  vastly  to  be  pitied  who  has  any  pleas- 
ures greater  than  those  which  meet  him  in  his  own 
dwelling — that  play-ground  of  the  affections.      What  a 


t>      OF  TBI  /\e 

Exuberant  Goodness.  /(TJJfl  VBHS'l'lt  »j 

power  has  she  who  presides  over  the  aboo5^1&d^«*e**»y  V\ \>* 
of  its  beautiful  tastes,  whose  office  it  is  to  make  us  good 
by  means  of  our  pleasures  !  What  profound  wisdom, 
dressed  in  poetic  form,  in  the  advice  of  old  Roger  Ascham 
to  Lady  Jane  Grey,  concerning  her  husband — "  Do 
thou  talk  with  him,  ride  with  him,  play  with  him,  be  his 
fairy,  his  page,  his  every  thing  that  love  and  poetry  have 
invented  ;  but  watch  him  well,  sport  with  his  fancies,  turn 
them  about  like  the  ringlets  on  his  cheeks,  and  if  he  ever 
meditate  on  power  or  ambition,  go  toss  thy  baby  to  his 
brow,  and  bring  back  his  thoughts  into  his  heart  by  the 
music  of  thy  discourse." 

The  Puritans — it  would  be  hard  to  discuss  such  a 
subject  without  lugging  them  in — have  been  accused  of 
being  unnaturally  severe  and  stern,  and  implacably  hostile 
to  all  that  was  playful  and  beautiful.  Those  who  make 
this  charge  invariably  overlook  the  one  main  fact  of  their 
history.  The  struggle  in  which  they  were  engaged,  being 
for  the  right  of  personal  liberty,  they  were  compelled,  by 
the  necessities  of  their  case,  to  suppress  and  crucify  many 
an  innocent  and  educated  taste,  for  the  very  purpose 
of  showing  their  proud  defiance  of  despotism.  When 
that  lubberly  fellow,  King  James,  issued  his  royal  com- 
mands, requiring  Christian  men  to  frequent  Bear  Gardens 
on  the  Sabbath,  and  obey  the  "Book  of  Sports,"  be  not 
so  shallow  as  to  impute  it  to  hypocrisy,  when  such  men 
drew  their  faces  into  extraordinary  length  and  gravity, 
and  with  a  good  will  and  purpose  gave  a  nasal  twang  to 
conventicle  hymns ;  for  their  object  was,  by  the  boldest 
contrast,  to  express  their  resolute  antagonism  to  tyranny. 
You  would  have  done  the  same,  even  if  you,  like  some  of 


52  Thanksgiving, 

them,  had  been  bred  in  the  best  universities,  in  the 
finest  culture.  You  would  have  sacrificed  your  best 
tastes,  as  Jephtha  did  his  own  daughter,  had  it  been  neces- 
sary to  defy  the  enemies  of  liberty.  If  despotic  power 
prescribed  something  else,  you  too  would  do  as  did  they 
— offensive  as  it  was  to  taste — call  your  own  fair  daughters 
by  the  uncouth  names  of  Patience,  Perseverance, 
Effectual  Calling,  and  Great  Tribulation — your 
purpose,  like  theirs,  being  to  show  in  the  face  of  courts 
and  cavalier  frivolity,  and  royal  enactments,  that  they 
gave  no  secondary  place  to  religious  liberty.  The  struggle 
ended,  it  was  needful  that  nature  should  have  its  way,  and 
reassert  its  rights.  The  sun  will  shine  on  the  snows  of 
winter,  and  throw  its  rays  into  the  densest  forests.  Even 
so  the  long  suppressed  tastes  for  the  playful  and  beautiful, 
which  belong  to  our  nature,  gleam  every  now-and-then 
through  the  rigid  severity  of  Puritan  character. 

A  good  part  of  those  feats  which  were  ascribed  to 
witchcraft  in  Massachusetts  can  be  accounted  for  without 
the  necessity  of  imagining  any  supernatural  agency.  It 
would  be  nothing  extraordinary  if  aged  men  and  women, 
of  uncommon  gravity,  should  complain  of  the  sensation 
of  pins  sticking  into  their  flesh,  and  unaccountable  noises 
rumbling  in  the  chimneys,  if  boyish  spirits  were  again  put 
under  the  pressure  of  a  forced  and  unnatural  seriousness. 
The  fountains  of  nature,  repressed  in  one  place,  will  break 
out  in  another.  Instead  of  destroying  by  violence,  or  ex- 
citing by  toilsome  stimulants,  it  is  better  to  guide  our 
impulses  into  the  channels  of  a  more  quiet  and  simple, 
yet  real  enjoyment. 

When  we  have  recalled  what  God  has  given  us  in  ex- 


Exuberant  Goodness.  53 

cess  of  all  necessity,  for  the  purpose  of  pleasing  us,  let  us 
remember  that  we  have  taken  but  the  first  and  lowest  step 
leading  up  to  a  vast  and  glorious  subject.  If  God  has 
done  so  much  for  us  here  on  the  earth,  what  will  he  not 
do  for  us  hereafter  in  heaven  ?  If  God  is  so  generous 
now,  what  will  he  be  in  the  world  to  come  ?  The  eye  looks 
forth  upon  the  streams  and  meadows  and  trees,  and  up 
to  the  skies,  all  so  full  of  beauty,  and  reports  that  these 
material  images  are  employed  to  describe  that  better 
country  which  is  reserved  as  our  eternal  home.  That 
heavenly  world  is  not  described  in  the  dull  lines  of  didac- 
tic prose.  All  the  pleasant  things  in  the  universe  are 
made  to  complete  the  promise  of  that  ultimate  enjoy- 
ment Now  is  it  a  landscape — green  pastures,  still 
waters,  the  tree  of  life  with  leaf  and  fruit — every  image 
of  contentment  and  delight.  Now  rises  an  imperial 
city — its  gates  of  pearl,  its  foundations  of  precious  stones, 
its  streets  of  gold,  and  all  the  nations  pouring  their 
glory  into  it.  Now  is  it  our  Father's  house  with  many 
mansions  ;  a  festive  board,  with  unmeasured  plenty  ;  with 
songs  of  joy,  and  garlands  of  gladness  upon  the  head. 
The  true  end  of  existence  is  "FULNESS  OF  JOY," 
and  "  RIVERS  OF  PLEASURE"  at  the  right  hand  of 
God. 


HOME. 


For  there  is  a  yearly  sacrifice  there  for  all  the  family. 

i  Sam.  20  :  6. 


III. 

HOME. 

Absent,  on  a  certain  occasion,  from  the  table  of  Saul, 
and  knowing  that  his  absence  would  be  noticed  and  mis- 
represented by  the  jealous  king,  David  directed  his  friend 
Jonathan  to  say,  when  inquiry  was  made  for  him,  that  he 
had  gone  down  to  Bethlehem  to  a  family  gathering.  "  For 
there  is  a  yearly  sacrifice  there  for  all  the  family." 

It  would  appear  from  this  that  there  existed  in  the 
family  of  Jesse  a  time-honored  custom  of  observing  a 
yearly  festival,  when  all  the  children  met  in  their  father's 
house.  Though  mention  is  not  made  of  the  fact,  we  are 
led  to  infer  that  at  this  time  Jesse,  the  father,  was  dead ; 
for  it  is  recorded  of  him,  in  a  previous  chapter,  that  he 
went  among  men  for  an  old  man  in  the  days  of  Saul ; 
and  subsequently,  when  Saul  saw  that  David's  place  was 
empty,  and  passionately  demanded  the  reason  of  his  ab- 
sence, Jonathan  answered,  "  David  earnestly  asked  leave 
of  me  to  go  to  Bethlehem,  and  he  said — Let  me  go,  I 
pray  thee,  for  our  family  hath  a  sacrifice  in  the  city,  and 
my  brother  (he  saith  not  his  father),  he  hath  commanded 
me  to  be  there  ;  and  now,  if  I  have  found  favor  in  thine 
eyes,  let  me  get  away,  I  pray  thee,  and  see  my  brother." 
3* 


5  8  Thanksgiving. 

Though  their  father  and  mother  were  in  the  grave,  yet  so 
long-established  was  this  usage  of  an  annual  gathering, 
that  the  scattered  children  were  summoned  by  the  eldest 
son  to  meet  at  the  accustomed  time,  in  the  old  cottage  in 
which  they  were  born,  to  celebrate  their  domestic  festival. 

Among  the  many  associations  connected  with  the  day 
of  Thanksgiving,  none  are  more  vivid  or  delightful  than 
those  which  are  attached  to  it  as  a  season  for  gathering 
together  family  connections,  and  drawing  closer  again  the 
many  hearts  which  the  separate  interests  of  life  are  con- 
tinually tending  to  divide.  Such  occasions  exert  a  most 
beneficial  effect  upon  the  character,  and  are  indeed  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  counteract  the  chilling  influences  of  a 
frosty  world.  It  is  a  beautiful  coincidence,  which,  by  in- 
sensible affinities,  from  remote  generations,  has  led  those 
with  whom  this  day  has  been  most  generally  observed,  to 
make  the  season  of  joyful  Thanksgiving  to  the  common 
Father  of  us  all  the  occasion  of  uniting  friends  and  kin- 
dred, quickening  every  fond  association,  and  kindling 
every  affectionate  sympathy. 

So  it  has  occurred  that  the  very  season  of  the  year 
which  has  invariably  been  consecrated  to  this  observance, 
has  its  appropriate  influences  to  deepen  the  flow  of  do- 
mestic delights.  When  the  earth  is  decked  in  its  em- 
broidered robes  of  green  and  gold — when  the  trees  are 
decorated  with  blossoms  or  richer  fruits — when  the  birds 
are  blithesome,  and  the  air  is  all  balmy  and  serene — then 
are  we  attracted  abroad.  But  when  the  birds  have  fled  to 
a  warmer  clime,  and  the  frost  has  locked  up  the  streams, 
and  the  trees  are  bare  of  their  foliage,  and  the  harvests 
are  garnered,  and  the  fields  are  shrouded  with  the  snows 


Home,  59 

of  winter — then  the  affections  come  home  for  food  and 
shelter,  and  from  the  nakedness  and  cold  of  the  world 
without,  we  seek  a  covert  at  our  own  altars,  and  find  our 
delights  in  the  warm  sympathies  of  domestic  life. 

"  O  Winter  !  ruler  of  the  inverted  year, 
I  love  thee,  all  unlovely  as  thou  seem'st, 
And  dreaded  as  thou  art. 
I  crown  thee  king  of  intimate  delights, 
Fireside  enjoyments,  home-born  happiness, 
And  all  other  comforts  that  the  lowly  roof 
Of  undisturbed  retirement  ever  knew." 

In  quiet  times  we  drop  upon  a  quiet  theme — home 
and  its  many  blessings — as  the  occasion  of  devout  thanks- 
givings to  Almighty  God.  But  what  shall  I  say  ?  When 
our  hearts  are  full  of  joy  and  good-will  at  the  remem- 
brance of  home  ;  when  we  reflect  upon  the  nature  of  our 
enjoyments  abroad,  and  cast  them  up  and  find  them  so 
few,  and  then  turn  home  again,  and  see  that  its  pleasures 
are  countless,  it  may  be  thought  that  we  could  speak  and 
write  of  them  without  ceasing.  But  it  is  not  so.  "  Though 
the  feeling  of  home  never  wearies,  because  kind  offices, 
and  the  thousand  little  ways  in  which  home  attachments 
are  always  uttering  themselves  keep  it  fresh  and  full  in 
its  course  \  yet  the  feeling  itself,  and  that  which  feeds  it, 
have  a  simplicity  and  unity  of  character  of  which  little  is 
to  be  told,  though  they  are  always  with  us."  *  Like  the 
light  and  air  of  Heaven  are  these  domestic  influences  : 
so  accustomed  are  we  to  their  daily  presence,  that  we 
pause   not    to    pronounce    upon    their  vital    necessity. 

*  Richard  H.  Dana. 


60  Thanksgiving, 

"  Truly,  the  light  is  sweet,  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  for 
the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun  " — but  so  constant  and  invari- 
able are  those  cheering  influences  of  day,  that  the  most 
of  men  would  first  be  reminded  of  their  value  by  the 
consternation  which  would  follow  their  total  withdrawal. 
Born  amid  the  affections  of  a  Christian  home,  nurtured 
under  its  gentle  dews  and  blessings,  we  go  out  and  come 
in,  lie  down  and  rise  up,  but  seldom  recounting  in  dis- 
tinct reflection  our  unspeakable  obligations  for  such  a 
grateful  retreat.  We  say  a  Christian  home ;  for  it  is 
Christianity  alone  which  enriches  home,  with  its  virtues 
and  endearments.  Home  is  something  more  than  a  house 
in  which  to  live,  a  place  in  which  to  be  lodged  and  shel- 
tered and  fed ;  it  is  the  sanctuary  and  seminary  of  the 
affections ;  and  nowhere  on  earth  can  you  find  a  place 
which  deserves  the  name,  or  the  praise  we  give  it,  save 
where  the  religion  of  Christ,  by  its  direct  or  indirect  in- 
fluence, has  nurtured  into  life  those  affections  which  give 
to  home  all  its  substantial  value.  The  heathen  are  "  with- 
out natural  affection,"  and  surely  it  is  no  small  occasion 
for  thanksgiving  to  God,  that  the  lot  of  life  has  fallen  to 
us  in  a  place  wherein  those  kindly  instincts  and  feelings 
of  our  nature,  to  which  Paganism  does  rude  violence,  are 
protected,  fostered,  and  strengthened  by  the  gentle  spirit 
of  a  pure  religion. 

There  is  a  great  variety  in  our  household  affections. 
Each  has  its  separate  beauty,  all  harmonizing  in  simple 
unity,  as  the  primary  colors,  each  distinct,  blend  to- 
gether to  form  the  brilliant  light  of  heaven.  We  must  ap- 
ply the  prism  to  the  heart,  and  discover  of  what  curious 
sympathies  it  is  compounded. 


Home.  6 1 

The  love  of  a  father  for  a  child — what  singular  com- 
binations enter  into  its  composition  !  Analyze,  if  you  can, 
his  great  emotions,  when,  for  the  first  time,  he  feels  his 
first-born's  breath.  Gladness  he  had  felt  before  ;  but 
new  joys  play  through  his  soul  like  a  sparkling  sea,  and 
"  the  concealed  treasures  of  the  deep  "  are  not  so  great  as 
the  comforts  that  unfold  themselves  in  this  new  affection. 
Scarcely  is  the  first  emotion  of  gratitude  expressed,  when 
sadness  gives  a  tinge  to  his  love,  for  he  is  full  of  awe, 
beholding  how  he  stands  related  to  an  immortal  spirit. 
Reverence  is  not  a  quality  of  filial  love  only ;  it  belongs 
also  to  the  descending  affection  of  a  parent  for  a  child, 
who,  strong  man  that  he  is,  trembles  at  the  thought 
that  the  shadow  of  his  own  earthly  self  must  pass  over 
the  pure  mirror  of  that  unclouded  mind.  Pity,  too,  is  an 
ingredient  in  the  novel  compound,  for  there  is  an  uneasy 
sense  that  the  being  so  weak  and  dependent  will  be  ex- 
posed to  a  thousand  ills  from  which  it  can  be  protected 
by  no  human  arm.  Pride,  too — shall  I  call  it  ?  yes,  if  we 
can  conceive  of  a  permitted  feeling  under  this  name 
which  has  no  alliance  with  the  meanness  of  sin.  Name  it 
rather  the  high  pleasure  which  a  parent  feels,  either  in 
anticipating  or  beholding  the  success  or  goodness  of  a 
son,  on  whom  concentrate  all  his  hopes — the  reduplica- 
tion of  himself,  for  whom  and  in  whom  he  lives  ;  all  this 
enters  as  another  element  into  that  strong  love  which  im- 
parts an  impulse  and  a  glow  to  his  whole  life.  "  Call 
not  that  man  wretched,"  says  Mr.  Coleridge,  "  who,  what- 
ever he  suffers  as  to  pain  inflicted,  pleasures  denied,  has 
a  child  for  whom  he  hopes,  and  on  whom  he  dotes. 
Poverty  may  grind  him   to  the  dust,  obscurity  may  cast 


6  2  Thanksgiving. 

its  darkest  mantle  over  him,  the  song  of  the  gay  may  be 
far  from  his  own  dwelling,  his  face  may  be  unknown  to  his 
neighbors,  and  his  voice  may  be  unheard  by  those  among 
whom  he  dwells — even  pain  may  rack  his  joints,  and 
sleep  may  flee  from  his  pillow  j  but  he  has  a  gem  with 
which  he  would  not  part  for  wealth  defying  computation, 
for  fame  filling  a  world's  ear,  for  the  luxury  of  the  highest 
health,  or  the  sweetest  sleep  that  ever  sat  upon  a  mortal's 
eye." 

In  the  love  of  a  father  for  his  children  there  is  some 
measure  of  reserve,  as  if  the  full  expression  of  it  all 
were  allied  to  weakness.  There  is,  withal,  too  much 
of  the  world  about  it.  It  is  subject  to  great  ebbings, 
impatient  and  indignant  at  the  misconduct  of  its  objects. 
But  the  love  of  a  mother  for  her  offspring  knows  no 
such  exceptions.  First  of  all,  she  gives  her  own  life 
in  proffered  exchange  for  the  life  of  her  child — going 
within  the  precincts  of  death  to  purchase  the  priceless 
treasure,  and  ever  after  holding  her  own  life  as  nothing 
in  comparison  with  the  welfare  of  her  offspring.  The 
full  and  vehement  expression  of  her  love,  instead  of 
being  counted  in  her  a  weakness,  is  her  very  life  and 
glory.  Blind  to  every  defect  of  the  person,  to  her  eye 
there  is  a  beauty  in  her  own  child  which  works  like  a 
spell,  and,  fully  apprised  of  each  defect  of  the  character, 
there  is  a  fulness  of  affection  which  survives  it  all.  That 
child  may  be  wayward  and  incorrigible  ;  he  may  practise 
every  crime,  so  that  the  world  may  justly  count  him  a 
pest  and  a  nuisance,  and  by  all  this  he  may  even  break 
the  heart  of  her  who  bare  him  ;  but,  oh  !  he  cannot,  even 
then,  destroy  the  love  which  that  fond  heart  contained. 


Home.  63 

The  perfume  of  partial  affection  will  forever  linger  among 
the  scattered  pieces  of  the  shattered  vessel.  What  the 
world  casts  out  as  worthless,  she  will  pity  and  love  to 
the  last — forgiving  when  the  world  only  censures,  and 
when  the  grave  hides  from  her  sight  the  miserable  victim 
of  vice,  she  shall  sigh  and  weep,  refusing  to  be  comforted 
because  he  is  not.  "  Can  a  woman  forget  her  child,  that 
she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the  son  of  her  womb  ? " 
Oh,  what  were  this  world  to  us,  in  the  absence  of  her 
love,  who  has  been  more  than  all  the  world  to  us — so 
gentle,  so  hopeful,  so  constant,  so  changeless  ! 

Then  the  love  of  children  for  their  parents  has  its 
own  separate  qualities.  As  parents  are  not  dependent 
upon  their  infant  children,  but  children  upon  their  pa- 
rents, the  economy  of  nature  makes  it  necessary  that  the 
love  which  descends  to  the  helpless  should  be  stronger 
than  the  love  which  ascends  to  the  helper.  Filial  affec- 
tion, beyond  the  simple  impulses  of  instinct,  is  of  slow 
growth.  There  are  many  weeds  of  waywardness,  and 
heedlessness,  and  wilfulness,  which  hide  its  early  beauty, 
and  it  does  not  attain  its  full  development  till  later 
years.  It  is  an  affection  which  increases  the  older  we 
grow.  Never  can  we  appreciate  our  parents'  love  for  us 
till  we  become  parents  ourselves;  and  one  of  the  first 
impulses  which  we  feel  on  arriving  at  this  relation  is  to 
hasten  home,  if  our  parents  still  survive,  to  make  some 
new  expression  of  our  gratitude  and  love  for  them ;  and 
the  longer  we  live  the  more  the  feeling  grows  upon  us,  as 
if  we  wished  to  atone  for  our  youthful  impatience  by  a 
more  just  and  grateful  conduct.  But  even  in  childhood, 
what  a  simple  grace  do  we  see  in  filial  love — the  com- 


64  Thanksgiving. 

pound  of  gratitude,  reverence,  and  trust.  The  confidence 
of  others  may  be  won  by  slow  degrees,  but  an  affectionate 
child  knows  that  its  own  parents  are  to  be  trusted  with 
all  the  heart.  They,  as  it  were,  put  in  the  place  of  God, 
are  the  first  objects  of  love,  the  first  of  faith.  The  first 
deep  thought  sealed  on  the  infant's  mind,  when  most  sus- 
ceptible and  all  untouched  by  other  impressions,  is  the 
idea  of  parental  care  j  the  image  of  two  faces,  beaming 
with  benignity,  grows  into  the  very  texture  of  the  soul ; 
and  when  other  and  more  superficial  impressions  fade 
away,  and  the  outward  accretions  about  the  heart  fall  off, 
the  first  deep  picture  becomes  more  distinct,  so  that  we 
incline  to  think  and  speak  the  more  of  our  parents'  vir- 
tues, twining  the  image  of  those  revered  forms  with  gar- 
lands of  graces  and  beauties  and  excellences,  rehearsing 
them  to  our  children  and  children's  children  as  our  high- 
est boast  and  glory. 

The  relation  between  brothers  and  sisters  has  also 
its  own  distinct  characteristics.  Independent  existences, 
yet  similarly  related  to  the  same  stock;  nourished  at 
the  same  fountain  of  life,  sleeping  on  the  same  pillow, 
fed  at  the  same  table — their  sympathies  and  affections 
become  all  intertwined  and  inseparable,  like  the  branches 
of  the  vine  on  the  side  of  their  dwelling.  One  pecu- 
liarity is  there  in  this  relation — that  it  never  can  be 
thought  of  without  calling  to  mind  the  common  home 
and  parentage  in  which  it  originated  ;  and  this  becomes 
the  guarantee  of  its  continued  warmth  and  vigor.  But 
fcr  this  common  centre,  it  would  inevitably  happen  that, 
as  the  independent  relations  of  each  multiplied  and  ex- 
tended, the  several  branches  in  course  of  time  would  be 


Home.  65 

pushed  off  into  entire  estrangement.  As  there  is  a  qual- 
ity of  manliness  in  the  love  of  a  brother,  so  there  is  a 
gentle  beauty  in  the  affection  of  a  sister.  Cast  in  a  finer 
mould,  endowed  with  a  nicer  sense  of  the  proper  and  the 
delicate,  her  influence  begins,  over  her  associates  of  the 
rougher  sex,  even  in  the  nursery.  Entering  into  a  com- 
plete companionship  of  feeling,  she  speaks  with  such  a 
soothing  voice,  and  moves  about  with  such  a  quiet  grace, 
that  she  insensibly  assimilates  to  herself  the  future  man, 
who  is  now  her  constant  associate  ;  and  blessed  is  he 
who  has  been  favored  by  such  gentle  sympathies.  Pity  a 
man  who  has  no  sister. 

So  much  has  been  written  in  sonnets  and  romances 
of  the  love  between  husband  and  wife,  that  many  are 
tempted  to  think  that  the  affection  exists  only  as  a  poet- 
ical fiction  or  fancy.  It  is  indeed  a  mystery,  that  two 
beings,  born  and  bred  at  remote  points,  in  entire  igno- 
rance of  each  other's  existence,  should,  in  after-years,  be 
brought  into  such  a  close  companionship,  and  should 
attain  to  such  absolute  confidence,  such  an  identity  of 
interests,  so  completely  harmonizing  into  one  life,  as  to 
be  the  symbol  which  the  Son  of  God  has  chosen  to  sha- 
dow forth  his  own  love  for  his  espoused  Church.  Infi- 
delity may  scoff  at  the  tie,  and  vice  stand  abashed  be- 
fore its  sanctity ;  but  every  heart  that  is  right  and  true 
will  be  thankful  to  God  for  that  relic  of  Paradise,  which, 
surviving  the  general  wreck  and  ruin  of  the  apostasy,  has 
secured  to  us  the  sacred  companionship  which,  softening 
the  asperities  of  life,  helps  our  better  purposes  by  means 
of  our  domestic  pleasures. 

There   is  a  special  beauty  in  the   relation  between 


66  Thanksgiving. 

grandparents  and  their  descendants.  The  young  of  ani- 
mals, so  soon  as  they  cease  to  be  dependent  on  their 
dam,  forgetful  of  all  affection,  mix  and  mingle  with  the 
common  herd.  But  the  love  of  a  human  parent  for  his 
offspring,  instead  of  fading  away,  travels  down  and  spreads 
out  with  a  peculiar  tenderness  on  children's  children. 
Those  far  advanced  in  years  would  not  fear,  as  they 
often  do,  that  they  have  survived  their  usefulness,  if 
they  reflected  how  much  of  good  they  accomplish  by 
being  the  object  of  respect,  reverence,  and  love,  to  the 
young.  The  thrifty  vine  is  never  so  beautiful  as  when  it 
twines  itself  around  the  old  oak,  as  if  it  would  bind  up 
its  shattered  branches  and  tenderly  conceal  the  ravages 
of  time. 

These  are  the  affections  which  combine  to  form  the 
glowing  lights  of  home.  And  shall  we  not  be  thankful 
to  God  for  these  transcendent  delights  of  domestic  life  \ 
for  the  happiness  of  parents  and  children,  husbands  and 
wives,  brethren  and  sisters  ?  This  is  a  source  of  pleasure 
which  depends  not  at  all  on  adventitious  distinctions.  It 
belongs  to  the  humble  poor,  as  well  as  to  the  more  ele- 
vated in  fortune,  in  equal,  and  oftentimes  in  larger,  mea- 
sure. Adversity  has  no  power  to  extinguish  these  home- 
bred comforts ;  for  its  roughest  blasts,  while  they  put 
out  all  the  lesser  lights  which  flicker  around  us,  serve 
always  to  blow  the  larger  affections  to  a  brighter  flame. 
This  serene  satisfaction  cheers  the  cottages  of  the  poor — 
lightening  the  weary  burden  of  toilsome  life,  while  it  or- 
naments the  mansions  of  the  rich  above  all  the  costly 
fabrics  of  art.  In  many  an  unpretending  abode  of  rural 
contentment,  sheltered  among  the  hills,  may  you  find  the 


Home.  6n 

reality  of  the  peaceful  picture  which  Inspiration  has 
sketched  for  our  admiration — "  whose  sons  are  as  plants 
grown  up  in  their  youth  ;  whose  daughters  are  as  corner- 
stones, polished  after  the  similitude  of  a  palace ;  whose 
garners  are  full,  affording  all  manner  of  store,  where  there 
is  no  breaking  in,  nor  going  out;  within  whose  walls 
there  is  no  complaining " — and  from  our  hearts  do  we 
join  in  the  exclamation,  "  Happ3',  yea,  happy  is  that  peo- 
ple that  is  in  such  a  case." 

To  the  beneficent  influence  of  Christianity  are  we 
indebted,  not  only  for  the  refinement  and  enlivenment  of 
our  domestic  affections,  but  also  for  the  security  of  the 
abode  in  which  they  grow.  Home  is  neither  an  open 
bower  nor  a  barricaded  castle,  yet  it  is  our  own  vine  and 
fig-tree,  beneath  which  we  repose,  with  none  to  molest  us 
or  make  us  afraid.  Here  is  nurtured  that  sense  of  inde- 
pendence in  the  individual  man,  which,  but  for  this  safe 
retreat,  would  be  trampled  down  by  the  huge  herds  of  a 
crowded  world.  Each  native  peculiarity  of  character  has 
here  its  space  and  quiet  in  which  to  grow.  There  is  a 
sense  of  security  which  we  feel  when  young,  within  the 
enclosure  of  home,  which  never  comes  back  again  to  us 
in  its  full  force.  All  this  is  needful  to  the  development 
of  a  healthful  mind  and  body.  The  tender  child  is  spared 
the  shock  of  care  and  apprehension.  Its  parents,  invest- 
ed to  his  eye  with  the  perfections  of  divinity,  seem  to 
have  the  power  of  protecting  him  from  harm.  To  such, 
death  itself  presents  but  little  dread,  for  they  feel  as  if 
their  parents  could  shield  them  even  from  this  j  and  so, 
sheltered  from  anxiety  and  danger,  in  that  secure  retreat 
in  which  God  hath  planted  them,  they  quietly  grow  up 


68  Thanksgiving, 

into  life.  Though  the  illusions  of  childhood  pass  away, 
yet  there  is  much  of  this  very  feeling  which  we  retain 
with  us  to  the  last.  We  go  forth  to  toil  and  come  home 
for  rest ;  we  could  not  survive  the  steady  pressure  of 
burdensome  cares  always,  nor  safely  give  up  ourselves  to 
the  agitating  passions  of  life  j  so  there  has  been  provided 
for  us  a  still  and  retired  abode,  in  which  we  may  throw 
off  the  weight,  and  by  the  play  of  gentler  affections  renew 
our  jaded  strength.  However  the  world  may  go  with  us, 
here  is  one  pleasure  always  in  reserve.  Whatever  mis- 
fortunes may  befall  us  elsewhere,  here  are  those  who 
share  them  with  us.  Here  the  aching  head  is  soothed, 
the  broken  heart  bound  up,  and  here  it  is,  when  life  wanes, 
that  we  retire  to  die.  The  heathen  parent  is  buried  alive 
by  his  own  children,  to  rid  themselves  of  the  care  of  de- 
crepit age,  and  the  mother,  unblessed  by  the  Gospel,  casts 
her  infant  child  to  the  flood  or  the  jackals.  But  God  has 
given  us  a  home,  not  only  to  live  in,  but  where  we  may 
die.  Here,  surrounded  by  weeping  children,  the  beloved 
parent  breathes  his  last ;  and  here  the  child  is  attended 
by  all  the  care  and  love  which  was  the  first  influence  it 
felt  when  born,  and  the  very  latest  also  when  it  dies, 
hovering  with  noiseless  steps  around  the  bed  of  uncon- 
scious suffering.  "  May  you  die  among  your  kindred," 
is  the  common  form  of  Oriental  salutation. 

The  thought  has  been  variously  expressed,  as  not  the 
least  among  the  high  praises  of  a  Christian  home,  that  it 
is  the  place  for  forming  a  good  character.  It  is  true  in 
more  senses  than  one.  We  call  ourselves  the  instructors 
of  our  children  j  with  less  pretensions,  they  are  our  in- 
structors also.    The  nursery  is  the  best  school  for  men  as 


Home.  69 

well  as  for  infants.  Its  playful  inmates  more  than  repay 
their  teachers,  by  many  an  unconscious  lesson.  Jesus 
Christ  took  a  little  child,  and  placed  him  in  the  midst  of 
his  disciples,  and  said  unto  them,  "  Except  ye  become  as 
little  children,  ye  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."  Would 
you  learn  simplicity  of  character — that  great  virtue — look 
in  the  "  open  face  "  of  your  child,  and  study  the  les- 
son. From  the  same  sunny  look,  read  the  beauty  of  un- 
affected humility.  Steal  softly  up  to  the  corner  where 
that  busy  child  is  employed  in  mock  labor,  erecting,  out 
of  his  blocks  or  corn-cobs,  a  church,  or  barn,  or  school- 
house,  and  listen  to  his  sage  talk,  investing  with  life 
whatever  he  touches  ;  then  mark  the  crimson  which  man- 
tles his  cheek  on  finding  himself  detected,  and  the  con- 
fusion with  which  each  fairy  thought  will  hasten  to  its 
cover  on  being  observed,  and  learn  there  that  fine  lesson 
of  delicate  and  modest  reserve,  which  you  can  learn  no- 
where else  half  so  well.  Go  in  the  stillness  of  night  into 
the  chamber  where  your  infant  children  lie  in  softest  slum- 
ber, and  there  call  to  mind  the  innumerable  forms  of  evil 
which  beset  them  ;  the  sickness  from  which  no  care  of 
yours  can  protect  them ;  the  temptations  from  which  no 
vigilance  of  yours  can  shield"  them ;  then  listen  to  the 
voice  which  comes  from  your  own  heart,  as  well  as  from 
heaven,  "  Commit  thyself  and  thine  helpless  offspring 
unto  the  Watchman  who  never  sleeps;"  and  then  kneel 
down  in  thanks  to  God,  for  the  bestowal  of  a  gift  and 
a  charge,  which  have  involuntarily  taught  you  how  to 
pray. 

"A  family  of  children,  walking   amidst  a  thousand 
dangers  and  often  escaping,  is  one  of  the  most  striking 


70  Thanksgiving. 

proofs  of  a  particular  Providence  that  ever  met  my  mind. 
To  talk  about  the  general  laws  of  nature,  immutable  and 
unbendable  to  the  interposing  will  of  Deity — away  with 
such  metaphysical  trash  !  It  is  just  fit  for  old  bachelors 
to  write.  It  is  very  unfortunate  that  some  of  the  great 
geniuses  who  have  undertaken  to  enlighten  the  world 
by  their  infidelity  were  not  married  men.  It  would  have 
done  more  to  help  them  to  digest  the  venom  of  their 
spleen  than  all  the  long  volumes  of  rejoinders  which  have 
been  written  by  metaphysical  theologians.  It  is  generally 
to  be  noticed  that  infidelity  and  misanthropy  have  an 
affinity  for  each  other,  and  are  of'en  combined  in  the  same 
heart.  But  how  is  a  man  to  avoid  misanthropy?  No 
man  ever  became  a  misanthrope  under  the  smiles  of  an 
affectionate  wife,  and  surrounded  by  a  family  of  ruddy 
children.  These  are  tender  chains  which  connect  us 
with  the  universe ;  they  bind  us  in  harmony  with  our 
species  ;  they  lead  us  to  feel  our  need  of  a  higher  protect- 
or— to  see  the  glory  and  the  goodness,  and  therefore  to 
believe  in  the  existence,  of  God.  God,  when  he  built  the 
world,  designed  to  pack  men  together  in  families  ;  and 
it  is  the  only  way  in  which  you  can  throw  the  human  spe- 
cies together,  without  impairing  their  principles  and  en- 
dangering their  virtue.  A  man  goes  into  a  splendid  city ; 
he  becomes  too  licentious,  or  too  lazy,  or  too  proud,  to 
establish  a  family.  He  passes  his  time  among  the  rubi- 
cund inmates  of  a  fashionable  boarding-house.  He  spends 
his  evenings  at  the  theatre  or  billiard-table.  He  rails  at 
women,  and  hates  children,  because  he  only  knows  the 
vilest  of  the  sex,  and  has  never  seen  a  child  which  was 
his  own.     His  affections  become  warped,  his  heart  is  in- 


Home,  7 1 

sulated ;  and  because  he  has  lost  his  humanity,  he  has 
never  found  his  religion."  # 

A  year  rolls  round,  and  it  is  fit  that  a  family  should 
meet  together  and  recount  their  manifold  blessings. 
Changes  not  a  few  may  occur  in  a  twelvemonth.  Grate- 
ful acknowledgments  should  be  made  for  God's  protec- 
tion and  God's  bounty.  Are  parents  yet  spared  to  bless 
you  ?  they  in  the  sear  and  yellow  leaf  of  age,  and  you 
in  your  maturity  ?  Count  it  a  special  favor  that  they  are 
continued  to  you,  at  that  period  of  your  life  when  you  are 
both  able  and  disposed  to  appreciate  the  blessing.  Now 
the  pleasure  is  yours  of  honoring  the  hoary  head,  and 
ministering  to  those  who  lived  only  to  minister  to  you. 
Remember  that,  however  high  and  honored  you  may  be 
before  the  world  as  men  and  women,  to  your  parents  you 
are  nothing  but  children  still ;  and  bring  to  your  yearly 
festival  a  heart  thankful  to  them  and  to  God.  Have  your 
children  been  spared  to  you  for  another  year  ?  It  is  won- 
derful, when  you  consider  how  thick  about  them  are  the 
dangers  which  threaten  their  life.  Fail  not  to  be  thank- 
ful to  Him  who  keeps  the  sparrow's  children  and  yours. 

It  was  a  beautiful  custom  among  the  ancients  to  throw 
the  gall  of  the  nuptial  sacrifices  far  behind  the  altar,  as  a 
sign  and  pledge  that  every  bitterness  should  be  excluded 
from  the  relation  which  was  then  consummated.  Ap- 
proaching the  household  altars,  with  an  oblation  of  united 
thanks  for  personal  and  family  blessings,  let  every  bitter 
thought  be  banished  from  the  sweet  and  sunny  charities 
of  the  domestic  sacrifice  ;  and  let  every  occasion — alas  ! 
but  too  few  and  infrequent  are  they — be  improved  to  ce- 

*  Withington. 


72  Thanksgiving. 

ment  the  relations  we  sustain  to  one  another  by  means  of 
a  warm  and  special  gratitude  to  our  Father  in  heaven. 

So  it  may  be  that  the  day,  which  to  most  is  one  of 
peculiar  pleasure,  to  some  is  one  of  irresistible  sadness ; 
and  the  very  words  here  written,  instead  of  cheering,  have 
only  pierced  their  hearts  with  many  a  poignant  pang. 
They  remind  them  of  happy  scenes  which  have  gone, 
never  to  be  renewed.  The  old  homestead,  whither  they 
were  wont  to  go,  has  passed  into  the  hands  of  strangers, 
and  its  former  inmates  are  now  in  that  narrow  house 
where  there  are  no  greetings — and  no  welcomings.  "  The 
delights  of  which  you  have  spoken,"  say  these,  "once 
were  ours ;  but  ours  they  are  no  longer."  Recall  the 
word.  Scenes  like  these  never  fade — pleasure  of  this 
description  can  never  die.  What  you  have  already  felt 
and  enjoyed  can  never  be  taken  from  you.  It  is  yours 
still,  and  will  be  yours  forever.  You  have  an  invisible 
property  in  these  remembered  delights  which  death  itself 
cannot  steal  from  you.  The  forms  of  your  beloved  parents 
may  have  mouldered  back  to  dust ;  but  their  memory  and 
their  love  can  never  decay.  You  cannot  rid  yourself  of 
their  influence  ;  no  wave  of  oblivion  can  wash  out  the  fond 
recollection  of  all  they  were,  and  all  they  did.  You  are 
rich  in  these  priceless  memories  and  affections.  You 
have  treasures  garnered  up  in  the  past  which  gold  could 
not  buy.  The  spiritual  can  never  perish.  It  was  the  vir- 
tue, the  affection  of  those  remembered  but  now  departed 
relatives  alone  which  you  loved ;  but  death  never  can 
touch  these  immortal  qualities  of  their  life.  Desolate,  in- 
deed, would  your  heart  be,  if  despoiled  of  all  these  cher- 
ished recollections.     The  mould  may  be  broken  up  and 


Home.  73 

thrown  away,  but  the  spiritual  fabric  which  was  cast  therein 
never  can  be  marred  nor  stolen  ;  and  the  product  of  those 
scenes  and  relations  whose  loss  you  so  bitterly  regret,  lives 
in  these  grateful  memories  and  kindly  affections,  which 
neither  time  nor  bereavement  can  ever  touch  j  and  which, 
even  now,  are  exerting  their  influence  to  make  you  better 
and  happier.  Count  yourself,  then,  no  more  solitary ;  for 
the  dead  still  live — their  voices,  their  smiles,  their  ex- 
amples, their  virtues,  are  still  yours  beyond  the  reach  of 
vicissitude  :  and  with  them  you  will  hold  close  sympathy 
until  your  own  hearts  crumble  to  dust. 

■  Perhaps  the  shadow  of  a  more  recent  bereavement  is 
on  you.  Some  seat  at  your  table  is  vacant ;  some  bright 
and  darling  head,  on  which  you  were  wont  to  put  your 
hand  with  a  blessing,  is  pillowed  beneath  the  winter's 
snow.  Surely,  you  will  be  thankful  that  religion  has 
taught  us  how  many  mercies  are  mingled  with  our  be- 
reavements. When  night  comes,  the  different  members 
of  a  family  go  to  their  separate  apartments  for  sleep ;  the 
morning  soon  unites  them — and  waking  or  sleeping  they 
are  one  household  still.  So  is  your  family  separated  for 
a  season — a  part  are  here,  and  a  part  are  in  the  chambers 
of  the  tomb  ;  but  the  bond  is  not  broken ;  and  soon  the 
morning  will  come,  when  you  shall  meet  again,  face  to 
face.  The  most  important  thing  of  all  would  have  been 
omitted,  had  I  failed  to  say  that  the  best  and  greatest 
blessing  which  religion  has  conferred  on  a  Christian  home, 
is,  in  making  the  affections  immortal.  If  we  were  all 
thrown  together  fortuitously,  the  companions  of  a  brief 
moment,  our  true  wisdom  would  be  in  moderating  or  even 
destroying  those  affections  which  would  expose  us  to  sor- 
4 


74  <      Thanksgiving. 

row  from  the  violence  of  their  rupture.  Far  different  is  it 
when  Christianity  assures  us  that,  beyond  the  narrow  pass 
of  death,  our  present  fellowships  are  to  be  perpetuated 
in  endless  harmony.  We  meet  around  the  home-hearth 
at  the  yearly  sacrifice — and  then  plunge  anew  into  life's 
dangers  and  cares ;  but  hereafter  we  shall  meet  in  our 
Father's  house  in  Heaven,  with  welcomings  and  rejoicings 
that  never  shall  cease.  Who  of  us  will  not  be  thankful 
with  such  a  prospect  gilding  his  skies,  and  such  a  promise 
shining  on  his  path  ? 

We  cannot  close  our  chapter  with  any  thing  more 
fitting  than  the  lines  of  Charles  Sprague,  on 

THE  FAMILY  MEETING. 

We  are  all  here  ! 

Father,  mother, 

Sister,  brother, 
All  who  hold  each  other  dear. 
Each  chair  is  filled,  we're  all  at  home. 
To-night,  let  no  cold  stranger  come. 
It  is  not  often  thus  around 
Our  old  familiar  hearth  we're  found. 
Bless  then  the  meeting  and  the  spot — 
For  once  be  every  care  forgot ; 
Let  gentle  peace  assert  her  power, 
And  kind  affection  rule  the  hour  ; 
We're  all,  all  here. 

We're  not  all  here  ! 
Some  are  away — the  dead  ones  dear, 
Who  thronged  with  us  this  ancient  hearth, 
And  gave  the  hour  of  guiltless  mirth. 
Death,  with  a  stern,  relentless  hand, 
Looked  in,  and  thinned  our  little  band. 


Home. 

Some  like  a  night-flash  passed  away — 
And  some  sank,  lingering,  day  by  day. 
The  quiet  grave-yard — some  lie  there, 
And  cruel  ocean  has  his  share. 
We're  not  all  here  ! 

We  are  all  here  ! 
Even  they — the  dead — though  dead,  so  dear. 
Fond  memory,  to  her  duty  true, 
Brings  back  their  faded  forms  to  view. 
How  life-like  through  the  mist  of  years 
Each  well-remembered  face  appears  ! 
We  see  them  as  in  times  long  past ; 
From  each  to  each  kind  looks  are  cast ; 
We  hear  their  words,  their  smiles  behold — 
They're  round  us  as  they  were  of  old. 
We  are  all  here. 

We  are  all  here  ! 

Father,  mother, 

Sister,  brother, 
You  that  I  love  with  love  so  dear. 
This  may  not  long  of  us  be  said, 
Soon  must  we  join  the  gathered  dead, 
And  by  the  hearth  we  now  sit  round 
Some  other  circle  will  be  found. 
O  then,  that  wisdom  may  we  know, 
That  yields  a  life  of  peace  below  : 
So,  in  the  world  to  follow  this, 
May  each  repeat,  in  words  of  bliss, 

We're  all,  all  here. 


IS 


A  CHEERFUL    TEMPER. 


He  that  is  of  a  merry  heart  hath  a  continual  feast. 

Prov.  15  :  15. 
A  merry  heart  doeth  good  like  a  medicine. 

Prov.  17:22. 


IV. 

A  CHEERFUL  TEMPER. 

The  greatest  boon  of  Providence  is  a  disposition  to 
enjoy  all  things.  Mr.  Addison  closes  one  of  his  essays 
in  the  Spectator  with  these  lines,  adopted  now  into  our 
Sabbath  hymns,  and  familiar  to  all  who  read  the  English 
tongue : 

"  Ten  thousand  thousand  precious  gifts 
My  daily  thanks  employ ; 
Nor  is  the  least  a  cheerful  heart, 
That  tastes  those  gifts  with  joy." 

Not  the  least !  It  is  the  whole.  It  is  the  mind  itself 
which  colors  all  outward  conditions  ;  and  affluence  of  gifts 
would  leave  one  in  misery  if  there  were  no  interior  dis- 
position to  cheerfulness.  "  He  that  is  of  a  merry  heart 
hath  a  continual  feast."  Some  nicety  of  discrimination 
is  necessary,  if  we  could  hit  the  exact  meaning  of  the  ex- 
pression. Changes  have  occurred  in  the  significancy  of 
words  since  our  English  version  was  made,  which  might 
mislead  the  unthinking.  Merriment  most  readily  sug- 
gests the  idea  of  conviviality  and  jollity.  A  "  Merry 
Andrew  "  excites  boisterous  laughter.     We  naturally  as- 


80  Thanksgiving. 

sociate  with  merriment  the  absence  of  the  higher  qualities, 
and,  except  in  the  case  of  children,  with  whom  animal 
spirits  are  an  exuberant  fountain  of  gaiety,  we  more  gen- 
erally connect  it  with  artificial  stimulants — the  sparkling 
cup  and  the  shout  of  high-sounding  festivity.  Instead 
of  commending  hilarity  like  this  as  a  medicine,  we  have 
an  impression  that  the  Scriptures  compare  it  to  some- 
thing else,  which  begins  with  an  M — madness.  Milton's 
L 'Allegro  was  written  when  he  was  in  the  flush  and  buoy- 
ancy of  youth,  before  the  dark  shadows  of  serious  ills 
had  passed  over  his  eye  and  heart.  It  will  always  be 
admired  as  a  proof  of  the  sweet  rhythm  of  the  English 
tongue,  while  many  of  the  images  it  embalms,  of  the 
morning  lark,  the  cheery  crowing  of  the  cock,  the  plough- 
man whistling  in  the  furrow,  the  mower  whetting  his 
scythe,  the  sweet-scented  haycock,  always  give  a  sense 
of  refreshment  to  a  jaded  spirit.  But  the  nymph  which 
he  invokes,  with 

Jest  and  youthful  jollity, 
.  Quips  and  cranks  and  wanton  wiles, 
Nods  and  becks  and  wreathed  smiles, 
Such  as  hang  on  Hebe's  cheek, 
And  love  to  live  in  dimple  sleek  ; 
Sport  that  wrinkled  care  derides, 
And  laughter  holding  both  her  sides, 

was  a  Pagan  goddess  of  mythological  pedigree.  There 
is  a  species  of  mirth  which  the  highest  authority  has 
likened  to  the  crackling  of  thorns  under  a  pot — a  light, 
flashing  blaze,  which  produces  a  bubbling  and  boiling  of 
waters,  soon  to  subside  into  insipidity. 


A  Cheerful  Temper.  81 

Collating  the  several  passages  in  the  Old  and  New 
Testaments,  in  which  the  word  translated  "  merry  "  is  used, 
we  find  no  difficulty  in  ascertaining  the  precise  intention 
of  the  word.  "  Is  any  among  you  merry  ?  let  him  sing 
psalms,"  says  the  Apostle  James.  The  word  used  is  the 
very  same  which  Paul  employed  when  addressing  the 
ship's  company  in  danger  of  wreck — "Be  of  good  cheer  ; " 
— circumstances  suggesting  the  pertinency  of  bravery  and 
hope,  but  forbidding  any  approach  to  hilarity.  The  Hebrew 
word  used  by  Solomon  is  translated  in  the  Septuagint  by 
a  synonym  which  is  used  elsewhere  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment (i  Thess.  iv.  n)  to  express  quiet  content ;  the  same 
which  Plutarch  frequently  employs  in  his  essay  on  Mental 
Tranquillity.  So  that  we  are  fortified  by  usage,  scriptu- 
ral and  classical,  in  adopting  this  as  the  exact  shade  of 
thought — "  A  cheerful  heart  doeth  good,  like  a  medicine." 
The  etymology  of  the  word  evSvpew,  be  of  good  cheer, 
conveys  a  lesson — well-minded,  well-disposed — for  cheer- 
fulness always  has  in  it  an  element  of  goodness,  while 
merriment  may  co-exist  with  folly  and  crime.  When  Mil- 
ton describes  the  fallen  angels,  after  the  Stygian  Council 
was  dissolved,  dispersing  in  various  directions,  some  in- 
dulging in  feats  of  strength  and  speed,  with  uproarious 
mirth  j  and  when  Death  himself  is  represented  by  the 
same  author  as  "  grinning  horribly  a  ghastly  smile,"  it 
does  not  shock  the  taste ;  but  had  he  described  either  as 
cheerful,  radiant  with  smiling  tranquillity,  we  should  have 
felt  the  incongruity,  for  he  is  describing  the  dark  forms  of 
guilt  and  woe. 

Let  us  mention  a  few  more  distinctions  separating 
cheerfulness  from  other  things  with  which  it  is  often  con- 
4* 


82  Thanksgiving. 

founded.     It  is  not  the  same  as  wit ;  though  a  cheerful 
temper  may  show  its  play  through  wit,  if  this  intellectual 
quality  exist.     "  Foolish  jesting  "  is  condemned  alike  by 
good  manners,  taste,  and  Scripture.     The  quick  associa- 
tions of  wit  are  of  the  intellect  and  not  of  the  heart,  and 
too  frequently  have  they  been  associated  with  cruelty  of 
disposition.     Endeavoring  to  be  witty  is  always  weak  and 
pitiable.     That  was  sage  advice  which  Dean  Swift  gave  to 
a  young  clergyman :  "  I  cannot  forbear  warning  you,"  says 
he,  "  in  the  most  earnest  manner,  against  endeavoring  at 
wit  in  your  sermons,  because,  by  the  strictest  computation, 
it  is  very  near  a  million  to  one  that  you  have  none,  and 
because  too  many  of  your  profession  have  made  them- 
selves everlastingly  ridiculous  by  attempting  it."  To  which 
may  be  added,  if  the  pulpit  is  ever  the  place  for  wit,  never  is 
it  the  place  for  levity.     Though  this  intellectual  gladiator- 
ship  of  wit  is  often  employed  in  the  service  of  cruel  satire 
and  stinging  sarcasm,  yet  it  may  be  associated  with  more 
genial    and   kindly  qualities.     Should   I    say  that  there 
were  a  few  cases  in  which  the  Apostle  Paul  has  used  the 
rapier-thrust  of  wit,  I  should  not  be  understood  by  those 
who  do  not  comprehend,  through  a  translation,  the  sharp 
point  of  certain  Greek  words.     The  principle  advocated 
by  Shaftesbury,  that  "  ridicule  is  a  test  of  truth,"  cannot 
be  conceded  ;  but  if  ever  there  was  a  book  mighty  in  its  wit, 
it  is  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress.    The  names  of  the  streets 
in  Vanity  Fair ;  of  the  judges,  jury,  and  counsel  in  the 
trial  of  Faithful,  excite  a  smile  at  the  witty  adroitness ; 
but  it  is  a  wit  like  the  smooth  beauty  of  the  lightning, 
which  demolishes  what  it  hits. 

So,  again,  cheerfulness  is  distinct  from  the  sense  of 


A  Cheerful  Temper.  83 

the  humorous,  however  acute  it  may  be.  Humor  is  a  sign 
of  sensibility,  of  pathos,  a  deep,  rich  fount  of  feeling,  even 
though  it  be  sad ;  the  very  word  signifies  moisture,  and, 
like  April-weather,  smiles  and  tears  are  mingled  together 
in  its  composition.  The  most  grotesque  images  may  be 
suggested  and  enjoyed  by  a  sense  of  the  humorous,  when 
bodily  and  mental  disease  will  not  allow  cheerfulness  ;  of 
which  Cowper  was  a  remarkable  instance.  The  amusing 
description  of  John  Gilpin,  which  the  most  sedate  cannot 
read  without  laughing,  was  written,  it  is  said,  during  one 
of  the  longest  and  gloomiest  of  those  seasons  of  melan- 
choly to  which  his  sad  life  was  subject — a  streak  of 
crimson  and  gold  on  the  edge  of  the  thunder-cloud.  In- 
stances are  well  authenticated,  in  which  actors  on  the 
stage,  with  the  keenest  perception  of  the  humorous,  by 
which  they  have  convulsed  houses  in  obstreperous  mirth, 
have  consulted  physicians  and  clergymen  for  relief  from 
a  settled  melancholy  which  was  wasting  their  life. 

Cheerfulness  is  not  intellectual  ability ;  it  is  not  mere 
animal  spirit ;  it  is  not  the  excitement  of  artificial  stimu- 
lants ;  very  distinct  is  it  from  jocularity  and  uproarious 
laughter.  It  is  the  tranquil,  hopeful,  benign,  blessed 
mood,  which  is  rightly  described  as  well-minded  ness.  It 
is  not  a  talent,  but  a  disposition.  Making  all  allowance 
for  diversities  of  constitution,  it  is  a  temper  which  is  to 
be  carefully  and  wisely  cultivated. 

The  things  affirmed  of  this  cheerful  heart,  thus  de- 
lined,  are,  that  he  who  has  it,  has  a  continual  feast,  and 
that  it  doeth  good  like  a  medicine.  He  who  has  a  feast 
only  on  the  last  Thursday  in  November  has  a  sad  life. 
There  is  a  daily  festivity,  which  depends   not  on  the 


■ 

84  Thanksgiving. 

quality  of  the  fare  with  which  the  table  is  spread,  whether 
it  be  a  dinner  of  herbs  or  stalled  ox,  but  always  on  those 
genial  qualities  of  the  heart  which  incline  us,  as  we  say, 
to  look  on  the  bright  side,  and  to  make  the  best  of  every 
thing.  Strange  that  this  disposition  is  not  universal.  But 
we  come  in  contact  with  a  most  singular  fact,  which  at 
first  is  not  so  easy  of  analysis,  that  people  are  intent  on 
playing  the  miserable,  as  if  there  were  a  virtue  in  it.  The 
real  solution  is,  that  it  is  an  exhibition  of  selfishness  \  for 
no  one  is  habitually  cheerful  who  does  not  think  more  of 
others  than  of  himself.  Multitudes  appear  to  be  studious 
of  something  which  makes  them  unhappy ;  for  unhappi- 
ness  excites  attention,  and  attention  is  supposed  to  in- 
spire interest,  and  interest  compassion.  You  have  seen 
a  person  of  very  robust  and  corpulent  habit,  so  robust  as 
ought  to  excite  perpetual  gratitude  for  joyous  health, 
sometimes  putting  on  the  airs  of  an  invalid,  for  no  reason 
in  the  world  but  to  draw  out  toward  him  some  expression 
of  affectionate  concern,  and  so  gratify  his  self-conceit. 
That  very  mood  which  in  children  is  called  naughtiness, 
in  young  people  is  dignified  with  the  name  of  "  low  spir- 
its," for  which  they  are  to  be  petted  and  pitied  ;  while 
in  elderly  people  it  is  known  as  "  nervousness,"  for  which 
it  is  expected  they  should  be  humored  to  the  full  tension 
of  mortal  patience. 

The  first  place  for  the  festal  and  medicinal  play  of 
cheerfulness  is  home.  The  parent  who  does  not  prac- 
tise it,  loosens  the  strongest  bond  which  draws  children 
to  virtue.  Once  make  the  impression  that  goodness  is 
austere,  and  it  has  lost  its  charms  for  those  who  reach 
conclusions,    not   through   reasoning,   but    the   feelings. 


A  Cheerful  Temper. 

Perhaps  you  can  recall  persons  with  whom  yoil --have., 
been  thrown  into  contact  when  you  were  young,  who,  in 
your  present  judgment,  were  good,  very  good,  but  in 
every  way  repulsive.  You  never  associated  them  with 
sunshine.  You  felt  that  goodness  had  a  strange  ten- 
dency to  make  one  unhappy.  Some  of  the  best  men  the 
world  has  seen  have  lived  to  regret  just  this  thing — the 
want  of  habitual,  cheerfulness  in  the  presence  of  their 
children.  It  may  be  taken  as  a  postulate  of  the  social 
system,  that  home  should  always  be  the  most  cheerful 
and  attractive  place  on  earth ;  and  whatever  is  expended 
to  make  it  such,  is  expended  wisely  and  economically. 
No  man  is  qualified  for  the  first  offices  of  an  educator, 
at  home  or  elsewhere,  who  is  not  habitually  cheerful. 
Reverence  is  an  essential  quality  of  character,  but  it  is  a 
mistake  to  exact  it  by  gruff  austerity.  Nothing  can  be 
more  grotesque,  for  example,  than  the  enactments  for 
respect  which  prevailed  in  some  of  our  American  col- 
leges during  the  last  century,  when  the  wearing  of  a  hat 
in  the  college-yard  by  a  Freshman  was  interdicted  by  stat- 
ute ;  and  the  exact  measure  in  rods  was  specified  at 
which  obeisance  was  to  be  made  to  that  specimen  of  the 
multum  in  parvo — a  college-officer.  Respect,  reverence, 
are  not  to  be  compelled  by  big  wigs  and  elongated  faces 
and  assumed  dignities ;  they  must  be  given  to  cheerful 
worth,  as  flowers  open  themselves  to  the  sun.  Grave 
mistakes  were  made  in  his  home  by  that  great  metaphysi- 
cian— of  whom  any  family  or  any  country  might  be  proud 
— Jonathan  Edwards.  His  biographer  informs  us  that  his 
children  were  not  expected  to  keep  their  seats  in  his  pres- 
ence :  that  he  ate  from  a  silver  bowl,  as  one  set  apart 


86  Thanksgiving. 

for  special  reverence,  and  that  his  features  seldom  relaxed 
from  the  one  expression  of  grave  austerity.  There  is 
one,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  only  one,  passage  in  all  his 
voluminous  writings  in  which  he  dropped  into  a  mirthful 
vein  of  argument  in  refuting  an  opponent.  He  is  arguing 
that  the  doctrine  of  the  Arminians  concerning  the  will  is 
an  absurdity,  and  he  writes  as  follows  :  "  If  some  learned 
philosopher  who  had  been  abroad,  in  giving  an  account 
of  the  various  observations  he  had  made  in  his  travels, 
should  say  he  had  been  in  Terra  del  Fuego,  and  there  had 
seen  an  animal  which  he  calls  by  a  certain  name,  that 
begat  and  brought  forth  itself,  and  yet  had  a  sire  and  a 
dam  distinct  from  itself;  that  it  had  an  appetite,  and  was 
hungry  before  it  had  a  being ;  that  his  master,  who  led 
and  governed  him  at  his  pleasure,  was  always  govern- 
ed by  him  and  driven  by  him  wherever  he  pleased ;  that 
when  he  moved,  he  always  took  a  step  before  the  first 
step ;  that  he  went  with  his  head  first,  and  yet  always 
went  tail  foremost,  and  this,  though  he  had  neither  head 
nor  tail,  it  would  be  no  impudence  to  tell  such  a  traveller 
that  he  himself  had  no  idea  of  such  an  animal  as  he  gave 
an  account  of,  and  never  had,  nor  could  have."  I  have 
often  imagined  what  sort  of  an  expression  must  have  stolen 
across  the  thin,  pale  face  of  Jonathan  Edwards  when  he 
wrote  that  most  grotesque  paragraph.  It  must  have  been 
somewhat  like  a  sun-gleam  in  the  solemn  pine-woods  of 
a  New  England  winter. 

If  we  speak  of  the  mistakes  of  good  and  pious  men, 
what  shall  we  say  by  way  of  commending  that  sweet 
cheerfulness  by  which  a  good  and  sensible  woman  dif- 
fuses the  oil  of  gladness  in  the  proper  sphere  of  home. 


A  Cheerful  Temper.  87 

The  best  specimens  of  heroism  in  the  world  were  never 
gazetted.  They  play  their  role  in  common  life,  and 
their  reward  is  not  in  the  admiration  of  spectators,  but 
in  the  deep  joy  of  their  own  conscious  thoughts.  It  is 
easy  for  a  housewife  to  make  arrangements  for  an  occa- 
sional feast.  But  let  me  tell  you  what  is  greater  and 
better.  Amid  the  weariness  and  cares  of  life ;  the 
troubles,  real  and  imaginary,  of  a  family;  the  many 
thoughts  and  toils  which  are  requisite  to  make  the  family 
the  home  of  thrift,  order,  and  comfort ;  the  varieties  of 
temper  and  cross-lines  of  tastes  and  inclination  which  are 
to  be  found  in  a  large  household — to  maintain  a  heart 
full  of  good-nature,  and  a  face  always  bright  with  cheer- 
fulness, this  is  a  perpetual  festivity.  I  do  not  mean  a 
mere  superficial  simper,  which  has  no  more  character  in 
it  than  the  flow  of  a  brook,  but  that  exhaustless  patience, 
and  self-control,  and  kindness,  and  tact,  which  spring 
from  good  sense  and  brave  purposes.  Neither  is  it  the 
mere  reflection  of  prosperity — for  cheerfulness  then  is  no 
virtue.  Its  best  exhibition  is  in  the  dark  background  of 
real  adversity.  Affairs  assume  a  gloomy  aspect — poverty 
is  hovering  about  the  door — sickness  has  already  entered 
— days  of  hardship  and  nights  of  watching  go  slowly  by, 
and  now  you  see  the  triumphs  of  which  I  speak.  When 
the  strong  man  has  bowed  himself,  and  his  brow  is  knit 
and  creased,  you  will  see  how  the  whole  life  of  a  house- 
hold seems  to  hang  on  the  frailer  form,  which,  with  solici- 
tudes of  her  own,  passing,  it  may  be,  under  the  "  sacred 
primal  sorrow  of  her  sex,"  has  an  eye  and  an  ear  for  every 
one  but  herself;  suggestive  of  expedients,  hopeful  in  ex- 
tremities, helpful  in  kind  words  and  affectionate  smiles, 


8  8  Thanksgiving. 

morning,  noon,  and  night,  the  medicine,  the  light,  the 
heart,  of  a  whole  household.  God  bless  that  bright,  sun- 
ny face,  says  many  a  heart,  as  he  recalls  the  features  of 
mother,  wife,  sister,  daughter,  which  has  been  to  him  all 
that  these  words  have  described.  Mr.  Dickens  has  not 
been  very  fortunate  in  his  portraiture  of  clergymen.  If 
Mr.  Chadband  must  stand  as  representative  of  the  pro- 
fession, we  must  say  that  the  author  has  not  been  very 
happy  in  his  circle  of  acquaintances.  But  as  for  his  por- 
traiture of  kind-hearted,  cheerful,  brave  women  in  humble 
life,  he  has  certainly  done  the  world  a  service  ;  for  when 
the  more  stately  forms  of  Shakspeare's  imagination  and 
the  rollicksome  or  thoughtful  heroines  of  Walter  Scott 
are  forgotten,  lowly  homes  will  be  cheered  with  the  picture 
of  "  Little  Dot,"  diffusing  an  atmosphere  of  kindness  so 
long  as  there  is  a  cricket  to  sing  on  the  hearth. 

The  first  object  of  an  intelligent  physician  is  to  in- 
spire cheerful  hope  in  his  patient.  This  is  better  than 
drugs.  And  so  the  medicinal  effect  of  cheerfulness  is 
most  apparent  in  times  of  peril  and  calamity.  There  are 
some  who  have  an  eye  for  nothing  but  evil,  whose  office  it 
is  to  croak,  till  at  length  the  mischief  apprehended  comes 
to  pass.  Indifference  to  danger  is  no  sign  of  a  Christian 
or  a  patriot.  The  very  love  we  bear  to  the  Church  and 
to  our  country,  renders  us  sensitive  to  any  thing  which 
threatens  their  peace  and  prosperity.  But  we  ought 
never  to  despair  of  the  fortunes  of  either.  The  best  med- 
icine in  the  worst  times  is  a  cheerful  heart.  Authentic 
records  inform  us,  that  in  the  seventeenth  century  our 
Puritan  fathers  enacted  a  law,  requiring  that  any  person 
who  should  thereafter  be  elected  to  the  office  of  Cover- 


A  Cheerful  Temper.  89 

nor,  and  would  not  serve,  should  pay  a  fine  of  twenty 
pounds  sterling.  What  would  the  modest  shades  of 
Winslow  and  Bradford  say  to  the  habits  of  our  times, 
when  men  scramble  for  office  with  an  unconcealed  am- 
bition for  spoils  ?  Can  any  one  doubt  that  one  of  our 
greatest  perils  is  the  greed  of  personal  ambition  ?  In 
Middleton's  Life  of  Cicero,  we  have  an  account  of  the 
mirth  which  was  occasioned  at  Rome,  by  the  specta- 
cle of  a  few  Britons,  dressed  in  their  savage  attire,  led 
along  in  the  military  ovation  decreed  to  their  returning 
conqueror.  What  changes  since  then  in  Britain  and 
Italy,  as  to  the  relations  of  barbarism  and  civilization ! 
Wealth  and  power  lead  to  luxury  and  enervation.  This 
is  the  one  lesson  of  history  j  and  the  most  fatal  influence 
which  threatens  our  strength,  is  that  increase  of  opulence 
which  excites  admiration,  and  fosters  pride,  while  it  may 
insidiously  sap  the  foundations  of  our  true  life.  Magnify 
and  multiply  all  these  occasions  for  alarm,  as  much  as 
you  will.  What  then?  Shall  we  give  up  the  ship? 
Shall  we  let  every  thing  go  by  the  board,  and  sit  down  in 
blank  despair  ?  Let  us  rather  imitate  that  noble  class  of 
men  who  show  the  best  qualities  of  our  nature,  on  the  deck 
of  the  ship,  when  the  storm  is  at  its  worst,  whose  bravery, 
when  driven  from  one  expedient  to  another,  inspires  the 
timid  with  hope.  Excitements  do  not  imperil,  provided 
the  temper  be  right.  W^hen  the  temperature  of  an  indi- 
vidual or  a  community  is  raised,  every  thing  which  belongs 
thereto  comes  out  with  the  greater  force ;  and  the  peril  is 
always  and  only  from  that  which  is  evil.  Let  there  be 
nothing  but  what  is  humane  and  kind  and  good  in  our 
nature,  and  danger  is  not  to  be  apprehended,  even  if  we 


90  Thanksgiving, 

be  excited  to  a  white  heat.  Reformers  who  have  suc- 
ceeded the  best  in  Church  and  State,  were  of  a  most 
hearty  cheerfulness.  In  Luther  it  amounted  very  often  to 
jollity.  Old  Samuel  Adams,  of  Boston,  was  renowned  as 
much  for  his  sonorous  singing  of  hymns  as  for  his  pa- 
triotism. Suppose  that  affairs  should  wax  worse  and 
worse,  never  will  they  be  mended  by  impatience,  irritabil- 
ity, and  petulance.  "  Fret  not  thyself,"  is  an  inspired 
counsel  for  troublous  times.  Have  a  good  heart,  and 
do  the  best  you  can.  Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  mischief 
will  be  averted.  Reformations  which  cannot  be  accom- 
plished by  good  temper,  will  not  be  brought  about  by  ob- 
jurgations and  wrath. 

How  can  a  cheerful  temper  be  acquired  ?  Is  not  the 
world  evil,  and  are  not  occasions  for  uneasy  fears  innu- 
merable ?  Differences  in  constitutional  temperament  are 
very  obvious.  Let  all  allowance  be  made  for  them.  We 
speak  of  what  pertains  to  personal  culture,  and  here  we 
claim  that  cheerfulness  must  have  a  religious  basis ;  and 
the  first  thing  religion  teaches  is,  the  immensity  of  mercy 
which  has  supervened  upon  demerit.  True,  sin  has  strick- 
en the  world,  and  a  curse  has  followed  upon  sin.  But  this 
is  not  the  whole.  God  has  dealt  with  us  incomparably 
above  our  deserts.  As  an  old  writer  has  expressed  it : 
"  It  was  a  rare  mercy  that  we  were  allowed  to  live  at  all, 
or  that  the  anger  of  God  did  punish  us  so  gently ;  but 
when  the  rack  is  changed  for  the  axe,  and  the  axe  for 
imprisonment,  and  the  imprisonment  changed  into  an  en- 
largement, and  the  enlargement  into  an  entertainment, 
and  the  entertainment  passes  into  an  adoption,  these  are 
steps  of  a  mighty  favor  and  perfect  redemption  from  our 


A  Cheerful  temper.  91 

sin.  And  thus  it  was  that  God  punished  us.  He  threat- 
ened we  should  die,  and  so  we  do,  but  not  so  as  we  deserved ; 
we  wait  for  death,  and  stand  sentenced,  and  every  day  is 
a  new  reprieve,  and  brings  new  favors ;  and  at  last,  when 
we  must  die,  by  the  irreversible  decree,  that  death  is 
changed  into  a  sleep,  and  that  sleep  is  in  the  bosom  of 
Christ,  and  there  dwells  all  peace  and  security,  and  this 
passes  into  glory  and  felicity.  We  looked  for  a  Judge, 
and  behold  a  Saviour !  We  feared  an  accuser,  and  be- 
hold an  advocate  !  We  sat  down  in  sorrow,  and  rise  in 
joy.  We  leaned  upon  rhubarb  and  aloes,  and  our  aprons 
were  made  of  the  sharp  leaves  of  the  Indian  fig-tree.  And 
so  we  fed,  and  so  were  clothed.  But  the  rhubarb  proved 
medicinal,  and  the  rough  leaf  of  the  tree  brought  its  fruit 
wrapped  up  in  its  foldings,  and  round  about  our  dwellings 
was  planted  a  hedge  of  thorns  and  bundles  of  thistles, 
the  nightshade,  and  the  poppy  ;  and  at  the  root  of  these 
grew  the  healing  plantain,  which,  rising  up  into  a  tallness 
by  the  friendly  invitation  of  heavenly  influence,  twined 
about  the  tree  of  the  cross,  and  cured  the  wounds  of  the 
thorns,  and  the  curse  of  the  thistles,  and  the  maledictions 
of  man,  and  the  wrath  of  God.  Si  sic  irascitur,  quo  modo 
convivatur  ?  If  God  be  so  kind  when  he  is  angry,  what 
must  he  be  when  he  feasts  us  with  caresses  of  the  most 
tender  kindness  ?  *  Every  thing  we  receive  above  the  line 
of  deserts  should  foster  a  spirit  of  cheerful  gratitude. 

Next  to  this  reflection,  the  specific  we  would  prescribe 
for  a  cheerful  habit  is  activity  in  well-doing.  Yes,  there 
is  evil  enough  in  the  world,  and  we  must  strive  to  make 

•  Jeremy  Taylor. 


92  'Thanksgiving. 

it  less.  How  can  we  be  cheerful  in  such  a  suffering 
world?  Strive  to  make  it  better.  Despair  sulks,  and 
pampered  indolence  is  a  prey  to  ennui;  but  he  who 
works  for  a  good  object  keeps  the  enemy  at  bay,  and 
good  works  leave  no  place  for  moodiness.  Excepting 
such  cases  of  bodily  infirmity  as  incapacitate  for  all 
motion,  in  which  patience  and  submission  may  enact  their 
own  cheerfulness — for  those  flowers  are  sweetest  which 
bloom  by  night — I  cannot  conceive  of  one  having  a  cheer- 
ful temper,  who  is  not  accustomed  to  healthful  bodily  ex- 
ercise. If  there  was  oddity  in  the  common  prescription 
of  the  late  Dr.  Abernethy,  of  London,  to  his  rich  patients, 
there  was  much  sound  wisdom — "Live  on  sixpence  a 
day,  and  earn  it."  Half  the  melancholy  which  invades 
the  domain  of  religion,  has  its  origin  in  laziness.  Doubts 
and  difficulties  in  spiritual  concerns,  and  despondencies 
in  prayer,  quite  as  often  arise  from  the  want  of  bodily  ex- 
ercise as  from  a  discriminating  conscience.  Never  pity 
the  man  who  swings  a  sledge,  or  Jiolds  the  plough,  or  works 
the  ship,  or  prosecutes  a  trade.  Give  your  compassion 
to  the  poor,  shriveled  form,  that  has  nothing  to  do. 
Cheerfulness  is  the  first-born  child  of  daily  work. 

He  who  is  the  busiest,  out  of  regard  to  duty,  is  the 
happiest  of  all  men.  Matthew  Henry  says,  in  his  quaint 
style,  of  Adam  required  to  dress  the  garden  in  which  he 
was  put,  "  if  either  a  high  extraction,  or  a  great  estate,  or 
a  large  dominion,  or  perfect  innocency,  or  a  genius  for 
pure  contemplation,  or  a  small  family,  could  have  given 
man  a  writ  of  ease,  Adam  had  not  been  set  to  work." 
As  God  is  full  of  blessedness,  because  he  is  full  of  benev- 
olent activity,  so  we  find  the  true  zest  and  sparkle  of  life 


A  Cheerful  Temper.  03 

in  the  constant  exercise  of  all  our  faculties,  in  the  way  of 
well-doing. 

Come,  Brother,  turn  with  me  from  pining  thought, 

And  all  the  inward  ills  that  sin  has  wrought ; 

Come,  send  abroad  a  love  for  all  who  live, 

And  feel  the  deep  content  in  turn  they  give. 

Kind  wishes  and  good  deeds — they  make  not  poor ; 

They'll  home  again,  full  laden,  to  thy  door. 

The  streams  of  love  flow  back  where  they  begin  ; 

For  springs  of  outward  joys  lie  deep  within. 

There  is  a  subject  suggested  in  this  connection  which 
deserves  ampler  discussion,  and  the  best  consideration 
of  the  best  men  :  the  necessity  of  some  kind  of  recrea- 
tion, which,  being  innocent  in  its  nature,  and  incapable 
of  perversion,  shall  give  to  body  and  mind  a  needed 
stimulus  and  refreshment.  It  is,  of  course,  in  city  life, 
that  the  problem  is  of  the  most  difficult  solution.  No  one 
who  began  life  in  the  country,  can  forget  its  simple  recre- 
ations, its  healthful  sports.  Who  does  not  feel  his  spirits 
rise  as  he  recalls  the  amusements  of  a  northern  winter, 
when  sun  and  stars  looked  down  on  the  smooth  and  bril- 
liant ice,  tempting  the  skater  to  his  joyous  speed,  and 
turning  the  horse  from  the  dirt  and  flint  of  the  road  to  the 
crystal  path,  where,  with  merry  music  of  bell  and  laugh, 
he  coursed  over  the  surface  of  water  without  wetting  a  hair 
of  his  fetlock. 

Sidney  Smith  has  shown  an  uncommon  amount  of 
sound  English  sense  in  this  one  direction,  to  all  who 
would  attain  an  habitual  cheerfulness  :  "Take  short 
views."  His  meaning  would  not  be  comprehended,  if 
we  did  not  remember  how  many  are  prone  to  distress 


94  Thanksgiving. 

themselves  by  the  fear  of  remote  possibilities.  "  Borrow- 
ing trouble  "  is  the  common  expression  which  describes 
the  habit.  It  is  not  the  actual  occurrence  of  to-day 
which  grieves  and  afflicts  ;  but  it  is  the  imagination  of 
what  is  likely  to  occur  in  some  contingency  of  the  future. 
"  Take  short  views,"  says  our  adviser.  Look  at  what  you 
have  already — this  present  day,  this  present  hour.  What 
is  this  but  a  paraphrase  of  our  Lord's  own  direction — 
"  Take  no  thought  for  the  morrow  j  for  the  morrow  shall 
take  thought  for  the  things  of  itself."  Travelling  on  some 
of  the  railroads  of  the  country — such,  for  example,  as 
that  which  winds  through  the  Alleghanies,  or  the  Water- 
Gap  of  the  Delaware — looking  far  in  advance,  it  would 
seem  that  huge  mountains  were  dropped  directly  upon 
your  road,  obstructing  all  progress,  and  bringing  you  to  a 
pause.  But  when  you  advance  to  the  spot,  you  find  that' 
there'  is  a  way  along  which  the  road  may  wind,  narrow 
and  circuitous,  perhaps,  but  smooth,  and  safe,  and  level 
as  elsewhere,  working  itself  free  from  all  impediments,  and 
qmerging  at  length  again  into  the  open  and  extended 
plain-country.  Just  so  is  it  in  the  journey  of  life.  We 
anticipate  formidable  obstructions,  and  imagine  that  an 
end  has  come  to  all  farther  advances,  by  the  towering 
mountains  which  stretch  away  across  the  distant  horizon.* 
Shorter  views  would  make  us  content  with  the  road  which 
is  ready  for  this  day's  journey;  and  past  experience 
should  satisfy  us  that  there  are  no  hills  so  high,  no  valleys 
so  precipitous,  no  passes  so  rugged,  but  that  a  road  runs 
through  them  all,  when  the  time  has  actually  arrived  for 
the  march.  Every  man  gets  through  the  world  without 
coming  to  a  halt. 


A  Cheerful  Temper.  95 

Another  thing  for  which  Sidney  Smith  deserves  ad- 
miration was,  amid  all  his  honorable  aspirations,  the 
absence  of  mean  jealousies.  He  had  a  brother  who  was 
titled  and  wealthy,  but  toward  him  was  nothing  exacting 
or  envious.  He  occupied  his  own  sphere,  and  was  very 
brave  and  contented  in  managing  his  own  affairs,  and  the 
very  cattle  in  his  inclosures  had  occasion  to  be  thankful 
for  his  kindness.  Here  was  regulation  of  desire  within 
proper  limits.  This  also  is  conducive  to  cheerfulness. 
The  conditions  of  contentment  are  put  at  a  very  low 
figure  in  the  Scriptures — "  having  food  and  raiment."  It 
is  the  intrusion  of  envy  and  jealousy  which  destroys 
cheerfulness. 

The  bee  sucks  honey  out  of  wormwood  ;  and  the  wasp 
secretes  venom  from  the  juice  of  the  ripest  plum  which  it 
stings.  The  habit  of  cheerful  gratitude  depends  on  our 
minds,  not  on  the  events  of  our  times.  Some  are  so  un- 
fortunate in  disposition  and  ways  of  thinking,  that  they 
detect  nothing  but  evil  even  in  that  which  is  good  \  while 
others  make  it  their  rule  and  their  habit  to  discern  good 
even  in  that  which  is  felt  to  be  evil.  Theophrastus,  the 
favorite  pupil  of  Aristotle,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  the 
preservation  of  his  master's  writings,  has  left  us  a  book 
entitled  "  Characters,"  or  Portraits,  in  which  we  find  the 
following  description  of  a  "  Discontented  Man."  Though 
the  portrait  was  drawn  more  than  two  thousand  years 
ago,  it  will  serve  for  the  likeness  of  men  now  living  on 
the  earth.  "  A  discontented  temper,"  writes  he,  "  is  a 
frame  of  mind  which  sets  a  man  upon  complaining  with- 
out reason.  When  one  of  his  neighbors,  who  makes  an 
entertainment,  sends   a  servant  to  him  with  a  plate  of 


96  Thanksgiving. 

any  thing  that  is  nice — '  What ! '  says  he,  '  your  master 
did  not  think  me  good  enough  to  dine  with  him  ? '  In 
a  dry  season,  he  grumbles  for  want  of  rain ;  and  when  a 
shower  falls,  mutters  to  himself,  '  Why  could  not  this 
have  come  sooner  V  If  he  happens  to  find  a  piece  of 
money — '  Had  it  been  a  pot  of  gold,'  says  he,  '  it  would 
have  been  worth  stooping  for.'  He  takes  a  great  deal  of 
pains  to  beat  down  the  price  of  a  slave ;  and  after  he  has 
paid  his  money  for  him,  '  I  am  sure,'  he  says,  '  thou  art 
good  for  nothing,  or  I  should  not  have  got  thee  so  cheap.' 
When  a  messenger  comes  with  great  joy  to  acquaint  him 
with  the  birth  of  a  son  and  heir,  he  replies,  ( That  is  as 
much  as  to  say,  my  friend,  I  am  poorer  by  half  to-day 
than  I  was  yesterday.'  Though  he  has  gained  a  cause 
with  full  costs  and  damages,  he  complains  that  his  counsel 
did  not  insist  upon  the  most  material  points.  If,  after 
any  misfortune  has  befallen  him,  his  friends  raise  a  volun- 
tary contribution  for  him,  and  desire  him  to  be  merry — 
1  How  is  that  possible,'  says  he,  '  when  I  am  to  pay  every 
one  of  you  the  money  again,  and  be  obliged  to  you  into 
the  bargain  ? '  "  * 

Were  I  to  string  together  a  few  brief  hints  additional 
as  to  the  manner  in  which  this  bright  virtue  may  be  culti- 
vated, they  would  be  on  this  wise  :  As  every  man  has  a 
will  of  his  own,  you  must  expect  every  day  that  your  own 
will  be  crossed  ;  when  this  is  done,  you  must  bear  it  as 
meekly  as  when  you  cross  the  will  of  another.  Expect 
not  too  much  of  others,  then  they  will  be  more  tolerant 
of  you.     Esteem  others  more  highly  than  yourself,  and 

*  Addison's  Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  336. 


A  Cheerful  Temper,  97 

watch  for  the  opportunities  in  which  you  can  say  a  kind 
word  and  confer  a  small  pleasure.  Be  studious  to  see 
what  is  good  and  hopeful  to  be  applauded  in  another, 
rather  than  What  is  evil  to  be  reproved  ;  and  amid  all  the 
trivial  annoyances  of  life,  measure  those  substantial  bless- 
ings which  come  to  you  every  hour  from  the  open  hand 
of  Christ ;  and  if  the  practice  of  these  rules  does  not  cure 
a  clouded  brow  and  an  irritable  manner,  then  it  is  be- 
cause you  need,  and  most  probably  will  have,  some  other 
medicine  besides  that  of  a  merry  heart. 

Chief  of  all,  if  you  would  be  cheerful  in  such  a  world 
as  this,  you  must  exercise  a  constant  trust  in  an  all-wise 
Providence.  We  mean  the  recognition  of  that  Divine 
Supremacy  which  directs  the  revolutions  of  time  and 
events  with  a  wisdom  and  love  and  power  superior  to  our 
own,  and  an  obedient  deference  to  His  will.  If  we  will 
consider  it  honestly,  we  shall  be  convinced  of  the  fact, 
that  the  occasions  for  individual  and  national  gratitude 
which  are  owing  to  our  own  power  and  achievement  are 
very  few,  while  those  are  boundless  which  spring  from 
Him  who  watches  alike  the  sparrow  and  the  empire. 
In  the  worst  times  let  this  be  our  joyous  confidence, 
"The  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth."  "  Although  the 
fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the 
vines  ;  the  labor  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  shall 
yield  no  meat ;  the  flock  shall  be  cut  off  from  the  fold, 
and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the  stalls  :  yet  I  will  rejoice 
in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation." 

Mirth  to  the  sorrowful  might  be  the  occasion  of  afrlic- 
tion  and  pain,  by  the  intrusion  of  contrary  qualities.    But 
5 


98  Thanksgiving. 

as  to  cheerfulness,  what  heart  knows  so  much  of  it  as 
that,  which  has  been  mellowed  by  affliction  ?  Not  he 
who  has  been  elated  by  long-continued  prosperity  knows 
the  secret  of  true  serenity,  but  meek-eyed  sorrow  speaks 
with  a  low  and  gentle  voice  of  the  goodness  of  God ; 
and  the  best  incentives  to  gratitude  are  those  which 
memory  brings  up  from  the  shadows  of  the  past.  If 
your  young  child  is  no  longer  with  you,  thank  God  for  its 
better  home,  and  the  warm  and  better  love  you  bear  it, 
now  that  the  heavens  have  received  it. 

If  there  are  tears  and  clouds,  there  is  also  a  bow.    Be 
still ;  be  cheerful ;  be  thankful. 


HAPPY    MEDIOCRITY. 


Two  things  have  I  required  of  thee  ;  deny  me  them  not  before  I 
die  ;  remove  far  from  me  vanity  and  lies  ;  give  me  neither  poverty  nor 
riches  ;  feed  me  with  food  convenient  for  me,  lest  I  be  full  and  deny 
thee,  and  say,  who  is  the  Lord  ?  or  lest  I  be  poor  and  steal,  and  take 
the  name  of  my  God  in  vain. 

Prov.  30 : 7-9. 

Auream  quisquis  mediocritatem  diligit. 

Hor.,  Od.,  2.  10.  5. 


HAPPY   MEDIOCRITY. 

The  Scotch  have  an  old  proverb  :  "  That  an  ounce 
of  mother  is  worth  more  than  a  pound  of  clergy."  If  it 
be  true,  according  to  the  best  criticism,  that  Agur  and 
Lemuel  were  brothers,  their  mother,  judging  from  the 
words  she  taught  them,  must  have  been  a  person  of  re- 
markable endowments.  Singularly  fortunate  were  Ithiel 
and  Ucal  in  their  preceptor.  Very  little  do  we  know  of 
Agur,  but  he  has  hit  the  true  philosophy  of  life  better 
than  all  the  sages  of  classic  fame.  For  aught  that  ap- 
pears, his  sententious  wisdom  may  have  often  delighted 
listening  disciples  ;  but  these  few  words,  "  give  me  neither 
poverty  nor  riches"  assigned  a  place  among  inspired 
aphorisms,  have  reached  the  good  fortune  of  the  one  in- 
sect in  a  swarm,  which  a  drop  of  amber  has  embalmed 
imperishably. 

In  the  estimation  of  this  Idumean  teacher,  character 
was  the  object  of  chief  concern  ;  and  outward  conditions 
were  to  be  regarded  by  their  tendency  to  affect  this  favor- 
ably or  unfavorably.  Character  does  not  depend  upon 
the  outward  estate  ;  though  we  are  prone  to  judge  other- 
wise.    As  that  shrewd  observer,  our  great  English  dram- 


102  Thanksgiving. 

atist,  has  said  :  "  We  make  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars 
guilty  of  our  disaster ;  as  if  we  were  ignorant  of  neces- 
sity j  knaves  by  compulsion ;  and  all  that  we  are  evil  in 
by  a  divine  thrusting  on."  "  Burden  not,"  says  old  Sir 
Thomas  Brown,  "  the  back  of  Aries,  Leo,  or  Taurus,  with 
thy  faults ;  nor  make  Saturn,  Mars,  and  Venus,  guilty  of 
thy  follies.  Think  not  to  fasten  thy  imperfections  on  the 
stars,  and  so  despairingly  conceive  thyself  under  a  fatality 
of  evil.  Calculate  thyself  within,  seek  not  thyself  in  the 
moon,  but  in  thine  own  orb."  Nevertheless,  it  must  not 
be  forgotten  that  each  and  every  condition  in  life  has  its 
own  tendencies  or  influences  for  good  or  evil,  and  if  we 
are  wise  we  shall  be  most  thankful  for  that  conjunction 
which  is  most  favorable  to  virtue  and  happiness. 

The  prayer  of  Agur  deprecates  for  himself  the  two 
extremes  of  great  wealth  and  severe  poverty,  as  being 
both  conducive  to  evils  ;  while  he  asks  for  himself  the 
happy  medium,  which  is  alike  removed  from  pride  and 
sensuality  on  the  one  hand,  and  discontent  and  dis- 
honesty on  the  other. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  found  difficult  to  define,  with  pre- 
cision, the  condition  here  intended.  Riches  and  poverty 
are  relative  terms.  We  are  all  rich,  we  are  all  poor,  ac- 
cording to  the  standard  of  comparison  which  we  adopt. 
In  some  parts  of  the  world  he  would  be  counted  rich 
who  possesses  the  means  of  securing  for  himself  a  suffi- 
ciency of  food  and  raiment,  warmth  and  shelter  ;  while, 
in  other  phases  of  society,  one  might  attain  to  the  pos- 
session of  all  comforts  and  many  luxuries,  and  yet  fall 
short  of  the  common  measurement  of  wealth.  In  fact, 
the  standard  of  judgment  is  in  the  mind,  and  not  in  the 


Happy  Mediocrity.  103 

estate.  He  is  a  rich  man  who  has  the  means  of  gratify- 
ing his  wants,  be  they  few  or  many,  great  or  small,  ambi- 
tious or  humble ;  and  he  is  a  poor  man,  even  though  his 
title-deeds  and  securities  certify  to  the  largest  invest- 
ments, whose  greed  outgrows  his  ability  to  supply  it.  The 
legislation  of  God,  accordingly,  in  reference  to  this  sub- 
ject, addresses  the  heart,  teaching  us  to  moderate  and 
control  desire,  so  bringing  the  conditions  of  contentment, 
and  gratitude,  and  peace  within  the  reach  of  all.  Though 
this  be  true,  both  Scripture  and  observation  instruct  us 
that  there  are  extremes  of  condition — wealth,  enormous 
wealth,  hereditary  or  acquired  ;  and  poverty — real,  pinch- 
ing, pining  poverty  ;  while  between  these  polar  extremes 
lies  that  temperate  zone,  that  table-land  of  happy  medi- 
ocrity, which  requires  the  exercise  of  our  best  qualities — 
industry,  exertion,  economy,  self-reliance— and  where,  by 
virtue  of  such  practices,  all  our  real  necessities,  as  physi- 
cal, intellectual,  social,  and  religious  beings,  are  honestly 
and  honorably  supplied.  The  leprosy  of  a  most  miserable 
error  has  already  cankered  our  hearts,  if  we  are  indis- 
posed to  appreciate  the  blessedness  of  such  a  condition 
for  ourselves  and  our  children. 

A  traveller  from  the  United  States,  visiting  the  Old 
World — especially  those  parts  in  which  feudal  institutions 
have  been  longest  entailed — is  painfully  struck  with  the 
inequalities  which  exist  in  the  condition  of  different 
classes,  reminding  him  of  the  results  of  our  winter-storms ; 
here,  immense  drifts  of  snow,  and  there,  the  ground  en- 
tirely bare.  The  laws  of  primogeniture,  by  which  prop- 
erty is  accumulated  and  entailed  in  one  line  of  descent, 
are  the  support  and  perpetuity  of  an  aristocratical  order. 


104  Thanksgiving. 

Here  is  an  estate,  extending  five,  ten,  or  thirty  miles, 
including  farms,  villages,  churches,  towns,  the  property 
of  a  single  owner.  In  some  favorite  spot,  where  Nature, 
in  her  happiest  combination  of  hill  and  vale,  wood  and 
water,  has  done  her  utmost  to  delight  the  eye,  rises 
the  baronial  hall  or  castle,  covering,  with  its  various 
offices,  some  acres  of  ground.  Sums  incalculable  have 
been  expended  in  rearing  and  ornamenting  it.  Within, 
the  walls  are  decorated  with  costliest  art — pictures  and 
statues  and  books,  the  behests  of  ages ;  while  gold  and 
silver  and  tapestries  of  hereditary  value  dazzle  the  un- 
practised eye.  Without  and  around  are  the  grounds 
which  rejoice  in  the  perfect  cultivation  of  hundreds  of 
years.  The  grass  grows  on  the  smooth  lawn  as  if  each 
blade  knew  the  exact  measure  of  the  velvet  texture. 
Miles  of  parks  are  filled — most  beautiful  of  all  natural 
growths — with  trees,  with  their  "  sylvan  honors  of  feudal 
bark,"  whose  massive  trunks  and  wide-spreading  tops  are 
the  copies  which  nature  gives  to  art,  in  all  kinds  of  archi- 
tecture— pillar,  arch,  and  roof.  Horticulture,  with  its 
exotic  fruits  and  flowers,  is  here  carried  to  its  perfection, 
while  artificial  lakes  and  rivers  and  cascades  are  called 
into  existence  at  the  summons  of  affluence.  The  very 
animals  rejoice  in  sleek  abundance  \  horses  and  hounds 
luxuriating  in  stalls  and  kennels,  which,  for  cost  and  com- 
fort and  elegance,  exceed  the  largest  ambition  of  an  ad- 
jacent peasantry. 

Remote  from  this  is  another  extreme.  An  iron  hand 
grasps  the  poor  as  soon  as  he  is  born,  and  holds  him 
down.  "  A  cottage  "  sounds  pleasantly  in  verse  and  tale, 
and  picturesque  is  it  in  a  rural  landscape,  or  in  the  port- 


Happy  Mediocrity.  105 

folio  of  a  tourist,  and  within  many  are  as  good  and  noble 
and  happy  hearts,  winter  and  summer,  as  the  world  con- 
tains. But,  in  many  parts,  the  cottages  of  the  poor  are 
the  abodes  of  heart-rending  distress.  The  thatch  which 
strikes  the  eye  of  a  summer-traveller  so  green  and  pleas- 
ant, in  winter  black,  sour,. and  mouldy,  drops  continual 
moisture  on  the  puddly  floor  of  clay  or  stone,  stiffening 
the  rheumatic  limbs  which  know  no  better  shelter.  Pov- 
erty here  is  no  romantic  imagination,  but  a  grim,  gaunt, 
and  ghastly  foe,  against  which  the  over-worked  fight  hard 
for  very  life.  Comforts  are  not  dreamed  of ;  the  struggle 
is  whether  they  shall  barely  live.  It  is  all  hard,  down- 
right, back-breaking  labor.  The  choice  is  not  as  to  the 
wholesomeness  and  nutritiousness  of  food ;  enough  if  a 
little  of  the  coarsest,  obtained  at  the  hardest,  can  keep 
off  starvation.  Excessive  toil,  and  meagre  diet,  and  un- 
suitable dwellings,  bring  on  premature  age  ;  and  when 
exhaustion  produces  sickness,  disabling  from  work,  which 
cannot  afford  a  respite,  there  is  no  hope  for  thousands, 
even  in  a  parish  poor-house — only  in  a  pauper's  grave. 

"  Over  the  stones 
Rattle  his  bones." 
"  Oh,  God  !  that  bread  should  be  so  dear 
And  flesh  and  blood  so  cheap  ! " 

Would  you  know  what  real  poverty  is,  you  must  go 
far  away  among  a  foreign  peasantry.  You  must  look 
upon  the  men  who  from  their  birth  are  so  familiar  with 
the  load  of  heavy  penury,  that  their  very  bodies  are  bent, 
and  they  go  along  cringing,  as  if  in  apology  for  presum- 
ing to  live.  You  must  visit  foreign  manufactories,  and 
5* 


1 06  Thanksgiving. 

mark  young  children  creeping  out  of  their  miserable 
houses,  while  it  is  yet  dark,  roused  from  insufficient 
sleep  by  the  stroke  of  the  workhouse-clock— fed  on  thin 
potations  of  gruel — pattering  along  the  wet  and  snowy 
streets  with  naked  feet,  deformed  in  head  and  limbs,  and 
sitting  down  to  their  work  so  solemn,  that  it  cuts  you  to 
the  heart  to  see  children  that  do  not,  and  cannot  smile. 
You  must  visit  yet  other  lands,  where  no  sort  of  charity 
pretends  to  help  the  helpless  ;  where  no  amount  of  toil 
promises  compensation.  You  must  suffer  yourself  to  be 
assailed  by  a  Swiss  or  Italian  beggary,  so  deformed,  so 
diseased,  so  wan,  so  importunate,  that  their  forms  will 
haunt  you  in  your  dreams,  touching  your  very  soul  with 
the  sad  cry  for  pity.  Still  further  eastward  must  we 
go,  for  the  more  despotic  kings  and  sultans  are  in  the 
land  of  "  barbaric  pearl  and  gold,"  the  more  miserable 
are  the  poor.  Here  is  the  Great  Sahara  of  human  life. 
The  victims  of  famine  are  computed,  every  year,  by  thou- 
sands. The  body  suffers  so  much,  that  the  whole  man  is 
brutalized  ;  loathsomest  things — vermin,  insects,  reptiles 
— are  counted  as  lucky  food  for  greedy  hunger  j  and  when 
death  comes,  the  human  body  obtains  not  the  poor  re- 
spect of  decent  interment,  but  is  thrown  into  the  sea,  or  left 
exposed  as  a  prey  to  the  vulture  and  the  jackal.  Thank 
God,  if  we  have  not  overgrown  and  aristocratic  wealth, 
we  have  nothing  which  deserves  the  name  of  poverty. 
And  if  there  are  any  among  us  who  doubt  whether  we,  as 
a  people,  have  occasion  to  be  thankful,  even  amid  judg- 
ments which  our  own  sins  and  follies  have  provoked,  they 
ought  to  vacate  these  fields,  which  the  Lord  has  blessed, 
and  exchange  places  with  the  peasantry  of  Ireland,  the 


Happy  Mediocrity.  107 

Lazzaroni  of  Naples,  the  Arabs  of  Syria,  the  Digger 
Indian — who  would  be  glad  and  grateful  enough  if  they 
might  only  take  the  crumbs  which  now  fall  from  our 
groaning  tables. 

Inequalities  of  social  condition  will  always  exist.  We 
have  no  faith  in  theories  which  are  wiser  than  Providence, 
or  better  than  the  Bible.  We  do  not  look  for  the  intro- 
duction of  any  atheistical-political  millennium,  in  which 
property  is  to  become  a  common  stock,  from  which  each 
is  to  draw  the  same  amount  of  rations — a  state  in  which 
there  will  be  no  superiority  to  occasion  pride,  and  no 
inferiority  tempting  to  envy,  but  "  one  great  plain,  without 
protuberance  or  indentation,  over. which  the  whole  team 
of  human  animals,  equally  yoked,  may  move  on  to  anni- 
hilation in  blessed  equanimity  " ;  and  we  do  well  to  be- 
ware that  no  devils'  bridges  touch  our  houses,  on  which 
infidel  notions  like  these  may  travel,  in  seemly  garb,  to 
the  overthrow  of  our  social  organization.  The  poor  we 
expect  to  have  always  with  us,  and  those  who  are  rich 
above  their  fellows  will  not  be  wanting  on  the  earth. 

The  perils  of  the  extreme  poor  are  many,  and  their 
trials  severe.  Agur  prayed  most  wisely  that  he  might  be 
delivered  from  a  state  which  endangered  his  honesty. 
Many  there  are  who  have  battled  bravely  against  adver- 
sity, sternly  keeping  faith,  in  extremest  penury,  with  God 
and  with  themselves.  The  brightest  jewels  of  truth,  honor, 
patience,  and  meekness,  have  been  found  imbedded  in 
the  rocks  and  shells  and  mire  of  the  most  abject  poverty. 
The  lily  which  floats  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  pure  and 
fragrant,  has  its  root  in  the  oose  and  slime.  Men  there 
are,  poorer  than  any  we  know,  whose  hands  are  hard  as 


i  o  8  Thanksgiving. 

horn  ;  whose  hearts  are  meek  and  gentle  as  a  child  j  who, 
poor  beyond  all  our  experience  or  conception,  would  not 
tamper  with  a  dishonest  thought  for  all  the  wealth  of  the 
world  ;  who  fight  against  want  with  a  brave  heart  to  the 
very  last,  trampling  on  the  sharp  thorns  in  their  path 
with  a  firm  foot;  hanging  the  burdens  which  are  too 
heavy  to  bear,  about  the  wing  of  faith  ;  trusting,  as  did 
Lazarus  at  the  gate  of  precarious  charity,  in  an  invisible 
and  almighty  Friend,  to  soothe  and  glorify  the  soul  at  last. 
Nevertheless,  it  cannot  be  questioned,  that  the  tendency 
of  extreme  poverty  is  to  mischief.  Political  statistics 
prove  that  crime  waits  on  the  footsteps  of  poverty.  Dis- 
tricts remarkable  for  penury,  are  equally  remarkable  for 
violence  and  vice.  As  Cowley  said  in  another  case,  "  It 
is  hard  for  a  man  to  keep  a  steady  eye  upon  truth  and 
right,  who  is  always  in  a  battle."  The  fiercest  perils  of 
a  great  and  crowded  municipality  are  from  the  vicious 
poor.  The  transition  from  absolute  necessity  to  crime  is 
very  easy.  The  poorest  man  feels  that  he  is  a  man,  and 
that  he  has  a  right,  like  others,  to  live  upon  the  earth ;  and 
once,  not  having  before  his  eye  the  fear  of  Mr.  Malthus 
or  Mr.  McCullough,  or  any  other  political  economist,  he 
had  the  audacity  to  marry — and  how  can  he  see  wife  and 
children  shivering  with  cold  and  starving  for  want  of  food, 
when  a  little  taken  from  the  superfluous  wealth  of  the 
affluent,  would  minister  such  substantial  relief?  Then 
come  wild  musings  about  the  injustice  of  Providence,  and 
these  break  forth  into  unconcealed  murmurings,  im- 
patience, and  wrath  j  ripening  quick  in  the  bitter  fruit  of 
dishonesty,  fraud,  robbery,  and  murder.  Well  may  we 
deprecate  a  condition  which  exposes  to  such  temptations. 


Happy  Mediocrity.  109 

"  Give  me  not  poverty,  lest  I  steal,  and  take  the  name  of 
God  in  vain."  It  is  certainly  an  occasion  of  gratitude 
that  we  are  not  reduced  to  that  degree,  which  tempts  us 
to  doing  hard  and  dishonest  things,  under  the  pressure  of 
necessity. 

In  the  opposite  extreme  are  the  perils  of  the  rich. 
These,  it  is  to  be  observed,  are  seldom  feared.  We 
should  all  probably  regard  ourselves  as  proof  against 
them,  and  readily  would  venture  upon  the  encounter  with 
this  brilliant  and  flattering  enemy,  rather  than  that  other 
foe, — rough  and  implacable  want.  Riches,  an  enemy! 
Many  speak  of  them  as  if  in  themselves  they  were  an 
evil.  Quite  the  contrary.  They  are  a  blessing,  if  rightly 
used.  That  surplus  of  possession  which  is  in  excess  of 
physical  wants,  is  the  power  of  social  progress,  the  ma- 
terial of  civilization  ;  it  is  not  only  the  instrument  of 
benevolence,  bread  to  the  hungry,  clothing  to  the  naked, 
but  knowledge  to  the  ignorant,  the  support  of  the  liberal 
arts,  the  means  of  all  social  culture ;  and  so  strews  this  life 
with  blessings,  and  builds  "everlasting  habitations"  in 
the  life  to  come.  Still  farther,  to  guard  this  part  of  our 
subject  from  perversion,  we  must  admit  that  some  of  the 
rarest  specimens  of  meekness,  condescension,  and  human- 
ity that  ever  blessed  the  world,  have  been  in  the  mansions 
of  the  opulent.  Nevertheless,  it  is  true,  that  the  ex- 
tremely rich  stand  on  a  perilous  pinnacle,  and  the  highest 
virtues  of  our  nature  are  put  to  the  severest  test,  when 
one's  tent  is  pitched  on  the  enchanted  ground  of  bound- 
less affluence.  I  have  nothing  now  to  say  of  care  in- 
creasing with  riches,  and  which  so  deranges  and  distracts 
the  mind,    that   enjoyment  is  limited  in  proportion    as 


no  Thanksgiving. 

means  are  multiplied — the  lust  of  wealth  growing  with 
what  it  feeds  on;  nothing  of  that  common  experience 
— satiety  of  every  sense,  ennui,  weariness,  and  disgust 
of  life,  out-living  the  simplicity  of  Nature,  and  the  skill 
of  art ;  for  these  consequences  of  perverted  wealth  have 
been  the  theme  of  satire  in  all  ages  and  in  all  languages, 
and  have  been  condensed  into  familiar  proverbs — those 
portable  results  of  universal  experience. 

Who  can  doubt  that  extreme  affluence,  with  its  ten- 
dencies to  indolence,  vanity,  self-indulgence,  and  display, 
puts  one  beyond  the  use  of  many  virtues,  and  exposes 
one  to  mischief  not  less  perilous,  because  it  is  not  con- 
sidered vulgar  ?  "  Give  me  not  riches,"  said  Agur,  "  lest 
I  be  full  and  deny  thee,  and  say,  Who  is  the  Lord  ? " 
This  is  the  portraiture  of  one  who,  inflated  with  wealth, 
regards  himself  as  absolutely  independent  of  God  and 
man  ;  who  is  rich  to  the  extreme  of  arrogance,  full  to 
wantonness,  proud  to  the  disdain  of  all  control,  and  self- 
indulgent,  knowing  no  law  but  the  capacity  of  pleasure. 
Is  it  not  true  that  national  opulence  has,  almost  invari- 
ably, been  followed  by  national  luxury,  impatience  of 
restraint,  corruption  of  morals,  effeminacy  of  manners, 
enervation  of  body  and  mind,  and  a  general  deterioration 
of  the  race,  "  rotting  from  sire  to  son  "  ?  It  was  over- 
grown wealth,  with  its  necessary  consequences,  unre- 
deemed and  uncontrolled  by  self-preserving  virtue,  which 
ruined  the  successive  dynasties  of  ancient  empire,  and 
prostrated  the  glory  of  kingdoms  before  the  lusty  strength 
of  barbaric  invasion.  We  have  need  to  be  reminded  of 
these  tendencies,  because  every  thing  around  us  stimulates 
the  lust  for  possession.     National  thought  and  legislation 


Happy  Mediocrity.  1 1 1 

and  enterprise  all  converge  on  the  increase  of  national 
opulence.  Our  tendencies  as  a  people  are  to  extrava- 
gance ;  and  extravagance  is  always  a  crime.  The  passion 
for  acquisition  is  so  intense  that  it  gives  an  expression,  it 
is  said,  to  the  national  features  and  the  carriage  of  the 
person.  Advertisers,  wishing  to  give  the  greatest  pub- 
licity, whether  to  a  political  nomination  or  the  sale  of 
their  wares,  have  ascertained  that  the  best  place  for  post- 
ing them  is  upon  the  pavement,  and  along  the  very  edge 
of  the  gutter,  as  if  in  the  city  all  were  the  worshippers 
and  followers  of  him  whom  Milton  has  immortalized  in 
his  epic  : 

"  Mammon,  the  least  erected  spirit  that  fell 
From  heaven ;  for  e'en  in  heaven  his  looks  and  thoughts 
Were  always  downwards  bent,  admiring  more 
The  riches  of  heaven's  pavement — trodden  gold — 
Than  aught  divine  or  holy  else  enjoyed 
In  vision  beatific." 

There  is,  then,  such  a  thing  as  a  wise  preference  in 
regard  to  condition.  There  is  an  intermediate  state 
equally  removed  from  great  poverty  and  great  riches, 
most  favorable  to  virtue,  most  conducive  to  happiness, 
the  safest  and  most  blessed  of  all  earthly  allotments  ;  and 
though  even  this  has  many  diversities  and  gradations, 
it  is  an  occasion  of  thankfulness  to  God  that  the  lines 
have  fallen  to  us  within  these  goodly  limitations. 

I  have  already  hinted  that  it  may  not  be  easy  to  define 
with  precision  what  is  intended  by  this  happy  mediocrity. 
Perhaps  we  shall  not  stray  far  from  the  truth  if  we  fix 
the  boundaries  at  the  point  where  work  is  required  and 


ii2  Thanksgiving. 

work  is  adequately  rewarded.  Surely,  that  condition  in 
life  which  demands  and  develops  self-exertion,  and  which 
compensates  that  exertion  with  a  competency,  is  rich 
enough  in  all  substantial  blessings.  I  have  chosen  the 
word  work,  and  that  other  word,  self-exertion,  rather  than 
labor,  because  we  are  accustomed  to  associate  with  the 
latter  more  of  intensity  and  drudgery  and  severity  than 
we  might  like.  Mr.  Thomas  Hood  has  rendered  a  most 
kindly  service,  in  the  interest  of  humanity,  in  those 
poems,  the  "  Song  of  the  Shirt,"  the  "  Workhouse  Clock," 
and  the  "  Lay  of  the  Laborer,"  in  which  he  has  so  skil- 
fully depicted  the  sufferings  of  those  who  are  doomed  to 
severe  labor,  but  are  denied  an  adequate  compensation. 
It  is  in  the  last  of  these  that  he  describes  one  asking  for 
nothing  but  honest  work  and  honest  remuneration  : 

"  A  spade,  a  rake,  a  hoe  ! 
A  pickaxe,  or  a  bill ! 
A  hook  to  reap,  or  a  scythe  to  mow, 
A  flail,  or  what  you  will — 
And  here's  a  ready  hand 
To  ply  the  needful  tool, 
And  skill'd  enough,  by  lessons  rough 
In  labor's  rugged  school. 

"  Aye,  only  give  me  work, 
And  then  you  need  not  fear 
That  I  shall  snare  his  Worship's  hare, 
Or  kill  his  Grace's  deer  ; 
Break  into  his  Lordship's  house 
To  steal  the  plate  so  rich  ; 
Or  leave  the  yeoman  that  had  a  purse 
To  welter  in  a  ditch. 


Happy  Mediocrity.  1 13 

**  Wherever  Nature  needs,  • 

Wherever  Labor  calls, 
No  job  I'll  shirk,  of  the  hardest  work, 
To  shun  the  workhouse  walls. 
My  only  claim  is  this, 
With  labor  stiff  and  stark, 
By  lawful  turn  my  living  to  earn, 
Between  the  light  and  dark. 

"  No  parish  money,  or  loaf, 
No  pauper  badges  for  me, — 
A  son  of  the  soil,  by  right  of  toil 
Entitled  to  my  fee. 
No  alms  I  ask  ;  give  me  my  task  : 
Here  are  the  arms,  the  leg, 
The  strength,  the  sinews  of  a  man, 
To  work,  and  not  to  beg. 

"  Still  one  of  Adam's  heirs, 
Though  doom'd  by  chance  of  birth 
To  dress  so  mean,  and  to  eat  the  lean, 
Instead  of  the  fat  of  the  earth ; 
To  make  such  humble  meals 
As  honest  labor  can, 
A  bone  and  a  crust,  with  a  grace  to  God, 
And  little  thanks  to  man." 

Now  just  this  is  the  description  of  our  social  state. 
There  is  work  enough  for  all ;  all  are  required  to  work ; 
and,  saving  painful  exceptions,  work  is  sufficiently  re- 
warded. We  hear  sometimes  slang  phrases  in  regard 
to  the  "  laboring  class,"  when,  in  truth,  we  all  belong  to 
it.  We  have  no  strata  of  society  separable  one  from  the 
other,  by  a  necessity  of  work  imposed  upon  one  from 
which  others  are  exempt.     This  word  work  does  not  de- 


H4  Thanksgiving. 

fine  the  occupation  j  as  if  he  only  was  a  workman  who 
employs  the  muscles  of  the  arm  and  the  back.  Where 
estates  are  not  entailed  in  one  line  of  accumulation,  the 
whole  population  is  placed  under  this  necessity, — let  us 
change  the  word  under  the  privilege  of  self-exertion.  He 
is  a  workman  who  employs  his  brain,  as  much  as  he  who 
wields  a  sledge  or  plies  a  spade.  In  such  a  state  of 
society  we  should  expect  the  utmost  expansion  of  the 
inventive  faculties,  and  an  illimitable  variety  of  methods 
by  which  to  earn  an  honest  living.  A  studious  lawyer,  a 
learned  physician,  a  good  teacher,  a  sagacious  merchant, 
and  a  good  minister,  work  no  less  than  those  addicted 
to  manual  labor.  No  less  ?  The  clock  strikes  six,  the 
shop  is  shut,  and  the  tired  mechanic  finds  that  sleep  is 
sweet ;  but  he  whose  work  is  with  that  finer  organ,  the 
brain,  knows  no  such  ready  suspension.  Thought  can- 
not be  recalled  so  quickly,  and  a  sleepless  night  often 
follows  the  work  of  the  day.  Those  will  always  be 
found  who  are  expert  in  devising  methods  of  shirking 
this  law  of  work ;  and  these  are  busy-bodies,  meddling 
with  other  men's  matters.  In  a  country  where  govern- 
ment patronage  is  so  immense  as  in  ours,  and  where 
this  is  dispensed  by  such  a  frequent  rotation  in  office, 
by  popular  elections,  there  is  no  kind  of  genteel  idle- 
ness from  which  we  have  more  to  apprehend  than  that 
which  makes  politics  a  profession,  foregoing  all  regu- 
lar and  honest  work,  and  expecting  to  clutch  some  spoils 
from  the  revolving  wheel.  Dr.  Parr,  being  asked  on 
one  occasion,  by  a  young  man  who  wished  to  draw  him 
into  a  discussion,  "What  he  thought  of  the  introduc- 
tion of  evil  into  the  world,"  simply  replied,  "  that  in  his 


Happy  Mediocrity,  115 

opinion,  we  could  have  got  along  very  well  without  it." 
Politics  belong  to  all  good  patriots  ;  but  these,  of  course, 
are  incidental,  and  correlative  to  other  personal  pur- 
suits j  and  oftentimes  we  are  inclined  to  think  the  affairs 
of  State  would  go  along  most  swimmingly,  if  there  were 
not  so  many  who,  too  lazy  or  maladroit  to  take  care  of 
themselves  by  working  with  their  own  hands,  spend  their 
whole  life  in  an  immodest  and  meddlesome  taking  care 
of  the  State.  There  may  be  times  when  we  are  all  dis- 
posed to  wish  the  rigor  of  work  were  somewhat  relaxed, 
and  that  its  sternness  were  somewhat  more  indulgent  of 
repose.  Sometimes  her  brow  is  knit  with  care,  and  soil- 
ed with  dirt,  and  her  voice  imperative  and  harsh ;  but, 
next  to  religion,  she  is  the  best  friend  we  have  in  the 
world. 

To  say  of  any  possession  that  it  was  well-earned,  is 
the  quality  which  gives  it  its  chief  value.  To  enjoy  the 
fruits  of  our  own  industry,  is  the  richest  pleasure.  To 
be  able,  with  God's  blessing,  to  provide  for  ourselves 
and  our  children,  is  the  very  luxury  of  life — personal 
independence.  This  is  better  than  to  be  fed  passively 
by  angels. 

There  is  an  invisible  wealth  in  possessions  acquired 
by  personal  industry  and  economy,  which  cannot  be  com- 
puted by  the  numeration  table.  The  fancy  strikes  an 
affluent  nobleman  or  a  king,  that  he  will  erect  a  palace. 
With  a  sort  of  creative  flat,  he  says,  "  Let  it  be  built,"  and 
it  is  built.  With  no  farther  care  on  the  part  of  the 
lordly  proprietor,  the  "  fabric  huge  rises  like  an  exhala- 
tion," and  when  complete,  my  lord  chamberlain's  order, 
or  a  banker's  check,  covers  all  the  disbursements.    A  man 


1 1 6  Thanksgiving. 

in  circumstances  of  mediocrity  undertakes  to  build  a 
house  for  his  personal  use.  First  of  all  is  any  amount  of 
contriving  and  planning.  Long  before  the  first  stone  is 
laid,  he  has  studied  out  every  convenience,  and  imagination 
has  invested  every  apartment  with  a  wealth  of  domestic 
delights.  Already  he  sees  the  fireside  where  he  will  seek 
repose,  when  weary ;  already  he  hears  the  winter's  hail 
and  rain  beating  upon  the  roof,  which  gives  to  content- 
ment so  sweet  a  shelter.  He  overhears  the  voices  of 
happy  children,  and  watches  all  the  pleasant  offices  of 
cheerful  housewifery.  Then  industry  puts  to  her  hand. 
Economy  is  brought  into  play,  and  at  length  the  grateful 
proprietor  takes  possession  of  what,  under  God,  is  his 
own — all  his  own — earned  by  his  own  honest  hand. 
Think  you  not,  there  is  here  more  of  real  pleasure  and 
comfort — I  like  much  that  good  old  English  word — than 
in  all  the  sumptuousness  of  royal  palaces  ? 

Walking  sometimes  along  the  thoroughfares  of  the 
city,  I  have  detected  myself  in  the  national  habit  of  guess- 
ing at  the  condition  and  thoughts  of  strangers,  so  easily 
recognized  as  they  pass.  Here  is  a  plain  and  most 
worthy  couple  from  the  country,  accompanied  by  their 
son  and  daughter.  They  have  just  purchased  that  com- 
fortable coat  for  the  one,  and  that  nice  muff  for  the  other, 
upon  which  both  are  looking  with  such  entire  complacency. 
That  purchase  has  been  the  theme  of  many  a  domestic 
conversation.  Those  parents  have  anticipated  the  need 
of  it,  wondered  whether  they  could  accomplish  it,  denied 
themselves  a  little  here  and  there,  and  now,  in  obtaining 
their  wish,  they  have  purchased  a  pleasure  for  themselves 
for  the  whole  season,  of  which  the  millionaire  never 


Happy  Mediocrity.  117 

dreamed  when  despatching  an  order  to  a  draper  for  his 
fastidious  children. 

If  there  be  such  a  gratification  in  expending  for  one's 
self  whatever  is  honorably  earned,  who  shall  compute  the 
value  of  that  which,  industriously  acquired,  has  been  well 
husbanded  and  well  spent  for  the  benefit  of  another  ? 
Gifts  which  have  no  self-denial  in  them,  lose  half  their 
worth.  See  that  small  treasure  in  the  hands  of  frugal 
industry.  It  is  not  a  part  of  a  large  dividend  or  legacy. 
Every  coin  of  it  has  in  it  days  and  nights  of  work. 
Against  how  many  temptations  has  it  been  kept !  One 
would  like  to  retain  it.  How  many  conveniences  it  would 
purchase  for  one's  self.  But  it  has  been  saved  for  an- 
other— an  indigent  parent,  an-  unfortunate  brother,  a 
widowed  sister,  a  dependent  child.  Tearful  blessings  are 
in  that  money,  for  him  who  gives  and  him  who  receives. 
Call  not  that  unrighteous  mammon.  Count  not  that  as 
common  pelf,  or  as  the  unmissed  donation  of  the  opulent. 
It  is  the  coinage  of  love,  and  God's  blessing  is  with  it 
wherever  it  goes.  That  condition  of  life  which  affords 
no  place  for  self-denial,  robs  life  of  the  noblest  virtue. 

Am  I  at  fault,  when  asserting  that  this  condition  of 
mediocrity  is  the  proper  domain  of  the  affections  ?  Ex- 
treme penury  produces  insensibility,  as  drowning  men  lose 
regard  for  others  in  the  impulse  of  self-preservation ; 
while  the  opposite  extreme  of  affluence  makes  one  in- 
dependent both  of  love  and  hate.  Disappointed  expec- 
tations or  alleged  injustice  in  the  disposal  of  great  estates, 
have  alienated  many  opulent  families  ;  while  the  affections 
of  those  in  humble  life  are  more  closely  cemented  by  the 
trials  which   they  share  in  common.      Those   who  are 


1 1 8  Thanksgiving. 

allied,  not  merely  by  consanguinity,  but  the  common 
necessity  of  exertion,  must  be  moved  by  the  liveliest 
sympathy  in  each  other's  success.  The  self-denying  effort 
which  a  parent  expends  on  his  children,  deepens  his  own 
love  for  them  j  and  children,  observing  with  what  an 
amount  of  tender  care  they  are  clothed  and  educated,  will 
be  prompt  to  repay  the  act  with  more  than  ordinary  grati- 
tude and  affection.  So  it  is,  that  those  who  walk  along 
the  middle  course  of  life,  will  generally  be  found  most 
distinguished  for  love  and  sympathy  and  domestic  hap- 
piness. 

Tell  me  on  what  holy  ground 
May  domestic  peace  be  found  : 
Halcyon  daughter  of  the  skies, 
Far,  on  fearful  wing,  she  flies, 
From  the  pomp  of  sceptered  state, 
From  the  rebel's  noisy  hate. 

In  a  humble  home  she  dwells, 
Listening  to  the  Sabbath-bells  ; 
Still  around  her  steps  are  seen 
Spotless  honor's  meeker  mien  ; 
Love,  the  fire  of  pleasing  years. 
Sorrow,  smiling  through  her  tears, 
And,  conscious  of  the  past  employ, 
Memory,  bosom-spring  of  joy. 

All  have  observed  that  familiar  phenomenon,  the  re- 
flection of  objects  from  the  surface  of  still  waters.  In 
hours  of  grateful  recollection,  when  there  is  no  ripple  on 
the  placid  surface  of  the  heart,  we  gaze  at  the  pictures 
which  are  so  faithfully  mirrored  therein.  With  us  it  is 
not  the  Lake  of  Avernus,  shadowed  with  gloomy  woods, 


Happy  Mediocrity.  ug 

of  which  Homer  and  Virgil  both  have  sung  j  nor  that 
Thessalian  Fount  which  reflected  the  image  of  Narcissus  ; 
nor  the  Italian  Como,  rendering  back  cultivated  terraces 
and  classic  architecture.  Look  at  the  scenes  pictured  in 
our  own  "  chambers  of  imagery."  There  are  houses  in 
the  landscape  of  various  styles  and  dimensions.  They 
are  unlike  any  you  have  seen  elsewhere.  They  have  no 
resemblance  to  the  Swiss  chalet,  the  French  chateau,  the 
English  hall  or  cottage,  the  Irish  hovel,  or  the  slave's 
cabin.  Here  is  one  of  goodly  size  and  shape,  painted  of 
cleanly  white,  with  green  blinds  ;  it  is  approached  by  the 
"  front  yard  "  and  a  straight  gravel-walk  •  and  around  it 
are  cherry  trees  and  lilac  bushes  and  sweet  roses,  and 
hard  by  the  great  barn,  and  the  meadow  with  cattle  that 
would  charm  the  eye  of  Paul  Potter  and  Rosa  Bonheur ; 
and  within  are  the  evidences  of  inexpensive  tastes  and 
refinement  and  plenty. 

Not  far  distant  is  another  of  still  humbler  preten- 
sions, built  in  defiance  of  all  orders  of  architecture  :  for 
preservation,  and  not  for  ornament,  it  is  painted  red ;  the 
long  steep  roof  on  one  side  descends  nearly  to  the 
ground  ;  and  banks  of  tanbark  are  laid  against  the  un- 
derpinning to  keep  out  the  frost  from  the  cellar.  We 
enter;  it  is  neither  the  home  of  affluence  nor  the  dwell- 
ing-place of  penury  j  but  the  home  of  happy  mediocrity, 
There  are  no  sumptuous  carpets  of  foreign  looms  to  be 
faded  by  the  warm  and  bright  sun  which  shines  in  with 
no  obstruction ;  the  floor  is  sanded  by  the  hand  of  clean- 
liness ;  in  the  fire-place,  if  it  be  summer,  you  will  see 
sprigs  of  feathery  asparagus  so  arranged  as  to  hide  the 
jambs,  smoked  and  blackened  by  the  winter's  generous 


1 20  Thanksgiving. 

fire,*  by  the  side  of  which  many  a  group  has  listened  to 
the  stories  of  the  Indian  wars  and  the  Revolution,  and 
where  many  a  prayer  has  been  offered  up,  precisely  when 
the  town-bell  was  rung  for  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
the  whole  household,  in  snug  contentment,  going  to  hon- 
est sleep  before  the  time  when  the  jaded  votaries  of  fash- 
ion in  the  city  are  beginning  to  dress  for  luxurious  dissi- 
pation. It  is  the  home  of  simplicity  and  truth  and  love ; 
and  every  thing  within  and  without  wears  the  aspect  of 
decency,  and  healthiness  of  body  and  mind  as  far  re- 
moved from  the  excitements,  revulsions,  temptations,  and 
disgusts  of  the  town,  as  the  soft  pictures  of  Claude  from 
the  wild  and  terrific  creations  of  Salvator  Rosa. 

Somewhere  in  the  landscape  you  are  sure  to  find 
a  certain  building,  bearing  no  resemblance  to  the  Acade- 
mies or  Lyceums  of  classic  Greece  \  yet  prolific  of  all 
things  good  and  great — the  country  school-house.  What 
memories  come  thronging  back  at  the  mention  of  the 
place — 

We  ne'er  forget — though  there  we  are  forgot — 

the  low,  square,  red  school-house,  with  its  hard  seats, 
straight  backs,  and  narrow  desks ;  the  mistress'  chair ;  the 
entrance  of  the  noisy  group  at  the  tap  of  thimbled  finger 
on  the  window ;  the  act  of  "  manners  "  at  the  door,  the 
low-dropped  courtesy,  the  head-long  bow ;  the  sports  of 
changing  seasons,  the  nut-tree,  the  "  huckleberry "  pas- 
ture, the  squirrel-trap,  the  skating-pond ;  the  long  winter 

*  "  Yea,  he  warmeth  himself,  and  saith,  Aha !  I  am  warm ;  / 
have  seen  the  fire"     Is.  44  :  16. 


Happy  Mediocrity.  121 

evenings  with  books  and  slate  and  household  games ; 
examination  day,  when,  in  the  presence  of  committee- 
men, deacons,  and  minister,  were  paraded  out  those 

" bright  and  ordered  files 

Like  spring  flowers,  in  their  best  array, 

All  silence  and  all  smiles, 
Save  that  each  little  voice  in  turn 
Some  glorious  truth  proclaims, 
What  sages  would  have  died  to  learn, 
Now  taught  by  cottage  dames." 

Keble. 

The  Puritan  School,  strictly  so  called,  is  now  an 
obsolete  institution.  No  one  expects  that  it  ever  can  be 
revived.  The  New  England  Primer  cannot  again  be 
used  in  the  District  School.  We  cannot  say  much  in 
praise  of  the  poetry  or  the  fine  arts  of  that  remarkable 
book.  We  laugh  at  some  of  its  rhyming  alliterations 
and  uncouth  pictures.  But  the  jingle  of  its  rhyme  car- 
ried a  truth,  and  the  woodcut  made  an  impression.  It 
contained  the  portrait  of  "  the  Honorable  John  Hancock, 
Esq.,  President  of  the  American  Congress  j  "  "the  young 
Infant's  morning  and  evening  prayers,  from  Dr.  Watts ; " 
"the  Lord's  Prayer;"  "the  Apostles'  Creed;"  "the 
Golden  Rule;"  "Agur's  Prayer;"  the  picture  of  Mr. 
"  John  Rogers  dying  courageously  for  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ;  "  and  "  the  Shorter  Catechism."  Hard  would  it 
be  to  find  any  thing  better  to  be  wrought  into  the  brain 
and  bones  of  those  who,  in  a  free  republic,  are  expected 
to  illustrate  the  virtues  and  blessings  of  the  happiest  so- 
cial condition. 

More  conspicuous  still  is  another  object  in  the  scene — 
6 


122  Thanksgiving. 

the  house  of  God,  with  its  silent  finger  pointing  ever  to 
the  sky,  and  hard  by  the  grave-yard, 

Where  the  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep. 

No  architectural  pretensions  are  there  ;  no  storied  win- 
dow, few  contrivances  for  convenience,  and  none  for  lux- 
ury and  cushioned  indulgence.  But  beneath  that  old 
sounding-board  stands  a  man  who,  for  a  moderate  sti- 
pend, faithfully  did  all  the  preaching  and  public  praying 
for  the  town ;  who,  oft  as  the  Sabbath  came,  with  a  steady 
hand,  and  a  calm  voice,  gave  forth  the  word  of  God,  whe- 
ther men  would  hear  or  whether  they  did  forbear ;  and 
who,  on  the  memorable  days  of  Fasting  and  Thanksgiving, 
exercised  his  liberty,  so  as  it  was  never  done  before  or 
since,  in  uttering  his  mind  round  and  full  about  the  polit 
ical  affairs  of  the  country.  Burns  has  given  us  an  in- 
comparable description  of  the  Cotter's  Saturday  night  in 
Scotland ;  but  the  most  poetical  image  we  can  recall,  is 
that  of  a  New  England  Sabbath  morning,  in  the  olden 
time  ;  so  bright,  so  calm ;  so  fragrant  with  odors  of  roses 
and  clover ;  so  profoundly  still  that  you  could  hear  the 
buzzing  of  a  fly  in  the  sun,  and  the  crowing  of  the  cock 
echoed  on  from  one  end  of  the  village  to  the  other,  and 
well-clad,  honest,  and  happy  people  left  their  unfastened 
and  unmolested  homes,  and  went  up  together  to  worship 
the  God  of  their  fathers. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  TEARS. 


They  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy. 

Ps.  126:5. 


VI. 

THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  TEARS. 

The  Proclamations  appointing  the  annual  Thanks- 
giving, invariably  make  mention  of  an  abundant  harvest 
as  one  of  the  objects  which  ought  to  excite  our  gratitude 
to  Almighty  God.  How  many  pleasing  images  are  sug- 
gested by  that  one  word — harvest !  Fields  covered  with 
grain,  ripe  for  the  reaper's  sickle ;  the  corn,  whose  silken 
banners  a  little  while  ago  were  playing  with  the  west-wind, 
now  ready  for  the  garner ;  wains  loaded  with  fragrant 
spoils  ;  barns  bursting  with  abundance  ;  the  harvest-moon 
standing  still  for  a  week,  prolonging  the  farmer's  oppor- 
tunity, as  once  it  stood  for  another  kind  of  harvest  in  the 
valley  of  Ajalon  ;  the  animals  stalled  in  the  midst  of 
comfort  and  plenty ;  the  homestead,  where  cheerfulness 
laughs  at  want :  wonder  not  that  poetry  has  gathered  up 
these  associations  and  set  them  to  blithesome  music,  in 
every  age,  and  in  every  tongue,  to  celebrate  the  rich  and 
jocund  autumn. 

For  all  this  abundant  and  joyful  reaping,  there  was  an 
earlier  season  of  toilsome  sowing.  The  ground  was  pre- 
pared by  great  painstaking  to  receive  its  trust.  The 
heavy  plough  was  dragged  along  its  surface,  ripping  open 


126  Thanksgiving. 

the  sod,  tearing  up  the  very  roots  of  the  grass,  disem- 
bowelling the  earth,  exposing  its  quiet  secrets  to  the 
winds  and  storms  and  suns ;  it  was  overturned  and  har- 
rowed as  by  instruments  of  torture  ;  and  if  this  were  the 
first  time  in  which  it  was  subjected  to  the  process,  the 
trees  and  shrubs  which  had  grown  there  unmolested  were 
cut  down  by  the  sharp  ax,  and  burned  with  fire.  All 
these  amputations,  and  severities,  and  seeming  cruelties, 
all  this  toil  in  making  ready  the  ground  for  its  office,  and 
then  the  actual  burial  of  the  seed  out  of  sight,  in  the 
bosom  of  the  earth — sad  symbol  of  the  disposal  of  the 
human  body,  amid  tears  and  mournings,  where  it  is  to  see 
corruption — all  these  were  the  necessary  antecedents  of 
the"  joy  and  plenty,  the  gladness  and  wealth,  of  the  golden 
harvest. 

There  is  a  harvest  of  contentment,  and  cheerfulness, 
and  plenty,  and  peace,  and  joy,  in  every  true  life,  and 
there  is  a  preparatory  sowing  for  the  same,  in  toil,  trouble, 
and  tears. 

Young  readers  will  not  comprehend  my  meaning  at 
first,  since  they  have  always  associated  tears  with  misery ; 
but  I  am  greatly  mistaken  if  adult  experience  does  not 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  sentiment  even  before  it  is  unfolded 
as  an  occasion  of  gratitude.  "  They  that  sow  in  tears 
shall  reap  in  joy."     Tears  are  the  seed  of  a  joyful  harvest. 

Let  us  understand  one  another  at  the  beginning.  I 
am  no  enemy  to  laughter,  if  it  be  of  the  right  quality — 
the  offspring  of  good  nature,  and  not  of  pride.  Philoso- 
phers have  defined  laughter  to  be  the  property  of  rational 
beings ;  animals  weep,  but  do  not  laugh.  So  long  as  it 
is  the  expression  of   cheerfulness,  and  not  of  folly ;  of 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears.  1 27 

humor,  and  not  fantastic  levity ;  of  true  wit,  and  not  of 
cruel  ridicule,  let  us  hope  that  we  may  never  be  too  wise 
to  indulge  in  it. 

An  old  monk  of  the  Papal  Church,  preaching  from 
the  text,  "  I  said  of  laughter,  it  is  mad ;  and  of  mirth, 
what  doeth  it  ? "  lays  down  the  doctrine  that  "  laughter 
was  the  effect  of  original  sin,  and  that  Adam  could  not 
laugh  before  the  fall."  Our  first  impulse  pronounces  that 
a  falsehood  j  but  the  more  you  revolve  it,  the  more  will 
you  be  convinced  that  the  point  furnishes  ampler  material 
for  discussion  than  many  others  which  have  employed 
monastic  wit.  Probably  there  is  no  metaphor  which  is  so 
common  in  all  languages  as  that  of  laughing  applied  to 
nature,  when  the  fields  are  covered  with  verdure  and 
flowers,  and  the  trees  with  blossoms,  and  the  streams  are 
running  and  leaping  in  their  playful  freedom  ;  so  that  we 
must  interpret  the  term  as  an  expression  of  innocent  joy. 
Nevertheless,  are  we  not  disposed  to  regard  the  happi- 
ness of  the  first  pair,  made  in  the  image  of  God,  as  too 
deep  and  serene  to  express  itself  in  mirthful  convulsions  ? 
We  never  think  of  the  angels — whose  joy  is  as  perfect  as 
their  holiness — as  inclined  to  laughter,  though  it  does 
not  strike  us  as  incongruous  when  poetic  conception  de- 
scribes them  in  tears,  as  the  expression  of  a  benevolent 
sensibility — a  kind  and  blessed  pity.  Was  it  not  a  most 
philosophical  accuracy  which  led  Milton  to  connect  the 
only  act  of  laughter  to  be  found  in  his  immortal  epic,  not 
with  the  sinless  angels  winging  their  joyful  ministries 
through  the  realms  of  God,  but  with  the  fallen  spirits  in- 
venting and  discharging  their  artillery,  rallying  their 
opponents  in  a  string  of  diabolic  puns  on  the  effects  pro- 


128  Thanksgiving. 

duced  by  their  curious  enginery  ?  We  do  not  associate 
frivolous  laughter  with  what  is  grand  and  heroic.  It  was 
exquisitely. natural  and  human  for  Virgil,  in  that  episode 
of  the  ^Eneid  which  describes  the  games  and  diversions 
of  the  Trojans,  to  relax  into  a  laugh — the  only  one  in  the 
book — when  Mencetes  was  thrown  overboard  from  his 
boat,  and  left  to  dry  himself  upon  a  rock.  After  all  that 
may  be  said  in  defence  or  advocacy  of  laughter,  it  is  not 
the  expression  of  the  highest  and  best  qualities  of  our 
nature.  It  has  its  uses,  it  has  its  place,  it  has  its  time  j 
but  the  best  sensibilities  of  the  soul,  like  deep  waters, 
flow  smooth  and  still.  The  most  wearisome  person  in 
the  world  is  a  perpetual  laugher.  Like  shallow  water 
running  along  a  rocky  bottom,  the  noisiest  of  all  streams, 
he  betrays  his  want  of  depth  by  a  constant  cachinnation. 
There  is  too  much  that  is  pleasing,  too  much  that  is  gro- 
tesque, in  this  world,  for  us  never  to  laugh  at  all ;  there  is 
too  much  which  is  serious  and  earnest  and  great,  to  allow 
us  to  laugh  always. 

It  was  necessary  to  say  so  much  on  this  subject,  that 
I  might  not  be  misunderstood  when  I  come  to  speak  of 
another.  It  was  needful  that  I  should  confess  that  I  be- 
lieved— after  a  certain  way — in  laughter,  that  the  reader 
might  not  be  repelled  by  the  assertion  that  I  believe 
also  in  tears. 

Tears  !  an  occasion  for  thanksgiving.  '  Perhaps  you 
intend  to  adduce  them  in  proof  of  the  divine  benignity, 
after  the  manner  of  Paley.  Perhaps  you  intend  to  give 
us  a  physiological  argument  for  the  goodness  of  God 
from  the  structure  of  the  eye.  Tears  !  why,  I  can  describe 
them   and   their  uses  very  quickly/  says  the  anatomist. 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears.  1 29 

'  They  are  a  limpid  fluid,  of  a  saltish  taste,  secreted  by 
the  lachrymal  glands,  somewhat  heavier  than  water,  con- 
taining pure  soda,  also  muriate,  carbonate,  and  phosphate 
of  soda,  and  phosphate  of  lime.  Their  use  is  to  prevent 
the  pellucid  cornea  from  becoming  dry  and  opaque; 
they  prevent  the  pain  which  would  otherwise  arise  from 
the  friction  of  the  eyelids  against  the  bulb  of  the  eye, 
and  they  wash  away  the  dirt  and  every  thing  acrid  that 
has  fallen  into  the  eye.  In  a  natural  state,  the  quantity- 
is  just  sufficient  for  these  uses ;  but  when  stimulated  by 
sorrow  or  any  thing  pungent,  they  are  secreted  so  fast, 
that,  unable  to  be  discharged  through  the  proper  conduit, 
they  overflow  from  the  internal  angle  of  the  eyelids,  in 
the  form  of  copious  drops,  upon  the  cheek,  and  so  relieve 
the  head  from  congestion ! '  That  sounds  very  good, 
very  wise ;  but  that  is  not  what  I  wish  to  say. 

Tears — perhaps  you  intend  to  entertain  us  with  all 
the  conceits  which  the  poets  have  associated  with  the 
name.  Have  they  not  been  likened  a  thousand  times  to 
pearls  and  diamonds  ?  Did  not  Rogers  give  us  a  fine 
thought  when  he  wrote — 

"  That  very  law  which  moulds  a  tear, 
And  bids  it  trickle  from  its  source, 
That  law  preserves  the  earth  a  sphere, 
And  guides  the  planets  in  their  course." 

Has  not  the  author  of  Lalla  Rookh  elaborated  an  Orien- 
tal romance,  "  Paradise  and  the  Peri,"  out  of  the  value 
of  a  tear,  caught  from  the  cheek  of  Penitence,  and  made 
the  passport  through  those  celestial  gates  which  will  be 
opened  to  no  other  bribe  ?  Aye,  but  this  is  trenching  fast 
6* 


1 3  o  Thanksgiving. 

upon  the  very  truth  and  sobriety  of  my  theme,  and  I  must 
desist  a  while.  It  is  nothing  learned,  nothing  philosoph- 
ical, nothing  poetic,  nothing  curious,  nothing  extraor- 
dinary, which  I  propose  in  the  theme  already  announced. 
I  take  tears  as  the  symbols  of  grief  and  affliction ;  real, 
bitter,  scalding  tears,  the  signs  and  consequences  of  actual 
sorrow.  When  we  dwell,  on  festal  occasions,  upon  those 
mercies  which  lend  brightness  to  life,  there  are  those  who 
feel  that  they  cannot  sympathize  with  the  strain,  inas- 
much as  they  are  conversant  with  keenest  suffering. 
Many  cannot  be  excited  to  cheerfulness  and  gratitude  by 
the  description  of  those  objects  which  are  the  occasion 
of  joy  to  others,  because  many  of  those  objects  have 
been  withdrawn  from  themselves,  and  in  their  place  are 
losses  and  bereavements.  We  must  not  blink  the  case 
of  such.  No  man  will  ever  be  cheated  into  a  sense  of 
gratitude  by  any  attempt  to  render  him  oblivious  to  his 
griefs.  Whatever  cheerfulness  you  succeed  in  imparting 
to  sorrow,  must  be  administered  in  that  sorrow,  and 
through  it,  and  by  means  of  it,  rather  than  by  any  attempts 
to  obstruct  its  flow.  What  empiricism,  what  ignorance 
of  our  nature,  are  implied  in  all  attempts  to  cheer  and 
comfort  a  real  grief  by  the  action  of  contrasts  !  Mirth  to 
a  heavy  heart  is  like  vinegar  upon  nitre.  Sorrow  hugs  to 
itself  the  very  memory  which  haunts  it,  and  never  will  it 
consent  to  have  it  torn  away  by  violence.  We  must  meet 
afflictions  just  as  they  are,  and  inquire  whether  there  be 
not  a  goodness  in  them  for  which  we  should  be  thankful.* 

*  How  profound  the  philosophy  of  Mr.  Coleridge  on  this  sub- 
ject. As  he  that  taketh  away  a  garment  in  cold  weather  and  as  vinegar 
upon  nitre,  so  is  he  that  singeth  songs  to  a  heavy  heart,  Prov.  25  :  20. 


OF  THE 

P 


UKIVERSI 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears, 

Tears  there  are  in  many  an  eye  j  we  are  quite  content 
to  retain  them  if  there  be  a  method  by  which  they  can  be 
shown  to  be  the  very  instruments  of  cheerfulness — as  the 
rain-drops  on  a  summer's  afternoon  bring  out  to  view 

Worldly  mirth  is  so  far  from  curing  spiritual  grief,  that  even  worldly 
grief,  where  it  is  great  and  takes  deep  root,  is  not  allayed  but  in- 
creased by  it.  A  man  who  is  full  of  inward  heaviness,  the  more  he  is 
encompassed  about  with  mirth,  it  exasperates  and  enrages  his  grief 
the  more ;  like  ineffectual  weak  physic,  which  removes  not  the  hu- 
mor, but  stirs  it  and  makes  it  more  unquiet.  But  spiritual  joy  is 
seasonable  for  all  estates :  in  prosperity,  it  is  pertinent  to  crown 
and  sanctify  all  other  enjoyments,  with  this  which  so  far  surpasses 
them ;  and  in  distress,  it  is  the  only  Nepenthe,  the  cordial  of  fainting 
spirits  :  so,  Psal.  4  :  7,  He  hath  put  joy  into  my  heart.  This  mirth 
makes  way  for  itself,  which  other  mirth  cannot  do.  These  songs 
are  sweetest  in  the  night  of  distress. 

There  is  something  exquisitely  beautiful  and  touching  in  the 
first  of  these  similes :  and  the  second,  though  less  pleasing  to  the 
imagination,  has  the  charm  of  propriety,  and  expresses  the  transition 
with  equal  force  and  liveliness.  A  grief  of  recent  birth  is  a  sick  in- 
fant that  must  have  its  medicine  administered  in  its  milk,  and  sad 
thoughts  are  the  sorrowful  heart's  natural  food.  This  is  a  com- 
plaint that  is  not  to  be  cured  by  opposites,  which  for  the  most  part 
only  reverse  the  symptoms  while  they  exasperate  the  disease — or 
like  a  rock  in  the  mid-channel  of  a  river,  swoln  by  a  sudden  rain- 
flush  from  the  mountain,  which  only  detains  the  excess  of  waters 
from  their  proper  outlet,  and  make  them  foam,  roar,  and  eddy.  The 
soul,  in  her  desolation,  hugs  the  sorrow  close  to  her,  as  her  sole  re- 
maining garment :  and  this  must  be  drawn  off  so  gradually,  and  the 
garment  to  be  put  in  its  stead  so  gradually  slipt  on,  and  feel  so  like 
the  former,  that  the  sufferer  shall  be  sensible  of  the  change  only  by 
the  refreshment.  The  true  spirit  of  consolation  is  well  content  to 
detain  the  tear  in  the  eye,  and  finds  a  surer  pledge  of  its  success  in 
the  smile  of  resignation  that  dawns  through  that,  than  in  the  liveliest 
shows  of  a  forced  and  alien  exhilaration. — Aids  to  Reflection,  p.  54. 


1 3  2  Thanksgiving. 

the  splendid  bow  of  God.  When  the  Scripture  tells  us 
that  sorrow  is  better  than  laughter,  that  it  is  good  to  be 
afflicted,  rely  upon  it,  such  expressions  are  not  a  pretence 
or  mockery — 

u  Which  keep  the  word  of  promise  to  the  ear, 
And  break  it  to  our  hope." 

There  is  a  profound  truth  in  these  sayings  which  it  is 
wise  for  us  to  comprehend.  Having  been  cheered  into 
smiles  by  those  forms  and  expressions  of  Divine  goodness 
which  we  call  blessings,  let  us  now  inquire  whether  there 
be  not  a  power  to  produce  the  same  effect  in  what  we  are 
accustomed  to  regard  as  evils — even  the  griefs,  wrongs, 
and  troubles  which  extort  the  bitterest  tears. 

"  In  the  account  which  Plato  gives  us  of  the  conver- 
sation and  behavior  of  Socrates,  the  morning  he  was  to 
die,  he  tells  the  following  circumstance.  Socrates,  whose 
fetters  were  knocked  off  (as  was  usual  to  be  done  on  the 
day  that  the  condemned  person  was  to  be  executed), 
being  seated  in  the  midst  of  his  disciples,  and  laying  one 
of  his  legs  on  the  other,  in  a  very  unconcerned  posture, 
began  to  rub  it  where  it  had  been  galled  by  the  iron ; 
and  whether  it  was  to  show  the  indifference  with  which 
he  entertained  the  thoughts  of  his  approaching  death,  or 
(after  his  usual  manner)  to  take  every  occasion  of  philos- 
ophizing upon  some  useful  subject,  he  observed  the  pleas- 
ure of  that  sensation  which  now  arose  in  those  very  parts 
of  his  leg  that  just  before  had  been  so  much  pained  by 
the  fetter.  Upon  this  he  reflected  on  the  nature  of  pleas- 
ure and  pain  in  general,  and  how  constantly  they  succeed 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears.  133 

one  another.  To  this  he  added,  that  if  a  man  of  a  good 
genius  for  a  fable  were  to  represent  the  nature  of  pleas- 
ure and  pain  in  that  way  of  writing,  he  would  probably 
join  them  together  after  such  a  manner,  that  it  would  be 
impossible  for  the  one  to  come  into  any  place  without 
being  followed  by  the  other."  * 

Acting  upon  this  suggestion,  Mr.  Addison  has  con- 
structed a  fable,  the  substance  of  which  is  this :  That 
Pleasure  and  Pain,  two  beings  of  a  very  different  pedi- 
gree, belonging  to  two  families  always  at  variance,  came 
into  this  world  of  ours,  the  one  to  take  possession  of  the 
virtuous,  the  other  of  the  vicious  ;  but,  after  many  experi- 
ments, they  discovered  that  they  often  laid  claim  to  the 
same  individual — that  in  this  intermediate  planet  of  ours 
there  was  no  person  so  vicious  who  had  not  some  good  in 
him,  nor  any  person  so  virtuous  who  had  not  in  him 
some  evil.  To  avoid  dispute,  and  come  to  some  accom- 
modation, a  marriage  was  proposed  between  them,  and  at 
length  concluded ;  by  which  means  it  is  that  we  find 
Pleasure  and  Pain  are  such  constant  yoke-fellows,  and 
that  they  either  make  their  visits  together,  or  are  never 
far  asunder.  If  Pain  comes  into  a  heart,  he  is  quickly 
followed  by  Pleasure ;  and  if  Pleasure  enters,  you  may 
be  sure  Pain  is  not  far  off. 

Do  we  mean  by  all  this,  nothing  more  than  the  com- 
monplace sentiment  that  our  pleasures  are  heightened  by 
contrast  ?  that  the  most  direct  method  of  promoting  a 
cheerful  contentment,  is  to  recall  the  troubles  from  which 
we  have  been  delivered,  and  the  sorrows  through  which 

*  Spectator,  No.  183. 


134  Thanksgiving. 

we  have  passed  ?  By  no  means.  This  would  be  but  a 
small  part  of  the  truth.  Nevertheless,  this  decimal  part 
of  the  truth  is  too  important  to  be  overlooked.  One  of 
the  inspired  lyrics  (Ps.  126)  is  set  to  this  very  sentiment. 
It  was  the  outburst  of  joy  and  gratitude,  in  view  of  a  great 
national  deliverance.  Reinstated  amid  the  freedom  and 
blessings  of  the  Holy  City,  the  Church  enhanced  its 
gladness  by  looking  back  to  the  shame  and  loneliness  of 
heathen  bondage — and  thus  she  sang  :  "  When  the  Lord 
turned  again  the  captivity  of  Zion,  we  were  like  them  that 
dream.  Then  was  our  mouth  filled  with  laughter,  and 
our  tongue  with  singing.  The  Lord  hath  done  great 
things  for  us,  whereof  we  are  glad.  They  that  sow  in 
tears  shall  reap  in  joy.  He  that  goeth  forth  and  weepeth, 
bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come  again  with 
rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him." 

Following  this  idea,  how  many  are  filled  with  grati- 
tude when  contrasting  their  present  condition  with  what 
it  was  in  former  days  of  bitterness  and  trouble.  Seated 
by  his  cheerful  fire-side,  or  resting  on  his  quiet  pillow, 
one  remembers  the  nights  of  tempest  and  gloom  when  he 
confronted  death  on  a  wreck  at  sea,  and  the  louder  the 
storm  howls  around  his  dwelling,  the  deeper  is  the  sense 
of  happy  security  and  contentment.  The  man  now  in 
possession  of  a  competency  looks  back  to  days  of  penury, 
when  he  began  life  alone,  and  struggled  hard  with  many 
a  grim  and  defiant  trouble — to  other  days,  when  property 
was  wrecked  and  credit  low  ;  and  recalling  what  God  has 
done  for  him  since,  in  giving  him  abundance,  he  is  moved 
by  the  contrast  to  lively  pleasure.  In  the  enjoyment  of 
health  we  remember  the  days  of  debility,  when  food  had 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears.  135 

lost  its  relish,  and  the  nights  when  pain  held  our  eyes 
waking,  and  the  memory  becomes  the  fount  of  gratitude. 
The  conception  of  ancient  mythology,  which  represented 
departed  spirits  as  drinking  of  Lethean  waters,  and  there- 
by becoming  oblivious  to  all  the  sufferings  of  life,  is  most 
heathen  and  cruel.  Far  different  is  the  wisdom  of  the 
Scriptures,  which,  by  every  appliance,  would  quicken  mem- 
ory and  never  benumb  it ;  which  would  counsel  us  to 
look  back  from  every  eminence  in  our  advancing  journey 
upon  the  way  in  which  God  has  led  us,  and  which  has 
promised  us  at  the  last,  as  the  inspiration  to  an  immortal 
song,  a  vision  of  all  the  woes  and  miseries  and  perils  of 
life,  from  that  world  of  blessedness  where  we  shall  drink 
of  another  and  sweeter  river  than  Lethe — 

"  Which  flows  through  a  land  where  they  do  not  forget — 
Which  sheds  over  memory  only  repose, 
And  takes  from  it  only  regret." 

The  great  body  of  those  odes  which  compose  our  in- 
spired hymnology,  are  set  to  this  very  key-note — grati- 
tude to  God,  in  memory  of  personal  and  .national  troubles, 
from  which  he  has  wrought  our  deliverance.  This  is  the 
philosophy  of  Christian  joy — the  harvest-reaping  coming 
after  the  sowing  of  tears.  Nor  can  I  think  of  a  surer 
method  of  promoting  rational  cheerfulness,  when  families 
are  assembled  at  their  domestic  festival,  than  conversing 
together  about  earlier  struggles  and  depressions ;  how 
they  wrestled  with  difficulties  in  getting  a  start  in  life ; 
of  the  self-denials  which  parents  practised  to  give  a  son 
an  education  ;  of  the  brave  trust  with  which  they  battled 


136  Thanksgiving, 

with  many  a  trouble — days  of  gloom  and  of  bitterness, 
which  have  been  succeeded  by  brighter  skies  and  a  truer 
sweetness. 

While  all  this  is  true,  it  is  not  the  pith  of  my  subject. 
We  must  advance  most  decidedly,  and  say  that  tears  have 
a  blessing  of  their  own.  Without  equivocation  or  reserve, 
I  mean  that  tears  and  joys  are  immediately  related,  as 
sowing  and  reaping,  as  means  and  ends,  as  beginnings 
and  issues.  It  is  no  poetic  conceit  concerning  the 
"  luxury  of  grief,"  devised  by  those  who  never  knew  the 
touch  of  actual  sorrow,  as  one  of  the  ancients  wrote  on 
the  advantages  of  poverty  when  he  had  two  millions  out 
at  usury  ;  it  is  no  notion  of  Pagan  stoicism,  denying  the 
existence  of  evil,  and  counselling  insensibility  under  that 
which  is  so  called ;  it  is  nothing  like  either  that  I  would 
employ  to  delude  the  sorrowful  into  a  better  bearing  of 
their  grief;  but  the  sober,  honest  truth,  that  sorrow,  like 
the  rains  and  plowing  of  the  Spring,  does  us  good.  He 
is  only  half-educated  who  is  conversant  with  prosperity 
only.  There  cannot  be  the  richest  harvest  in  the  soul 
and  life  of  that  man  who  has  not  passed  through  the 
preparatory  process  of  sowing  in  tears. 

Seneca,  discoursing  on  a  kindred  subject,  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  Demetrius  this  remarkable  saying :  "  Noth- 
ing would  be  more  unhappy  than  a  man  who  had  never 
known  affliction."  A  notable  saying,  most  certainly  ! 
It  is  something  more  than  the  truism  that  prosperity  may 
prove  an  injury  by  pampering  our  passions  with  over-fond 
and  mistaken  indulgences.  Mark  the  word  :  "  Nothing 
would  be  more  unhappy" — the  Latin,  infelix,  does  not 
mean  unfortunate  merely,  but  unblessed — nothing  would 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears.  137 

be  more  unhappy  and  unblessed  than  one  who  had  never 
known  affliction.  Just  what  the  ax,  and  plough,  and  har- 
row, and  storm  and  rain,  do  for  the  mould,  developing 
its  latent  properties,  tearful  afflictions  accomplish  in  our 
own  conscious  being.  It  is  a  phenomenon  familiar  to  those 
who  are  engaged  in  clearing  new  countries,  that  often- 
times, as  the  ax  levels  the  forest,  fountains  of  waters,  till 
then  concealed,  spring  to  the  surface.  That  illustrates 
what  takes  place  in  the  human  heart  when  sharp  afflic- 
tions prostrate  the  pride  and  the  strength  which  have 
overshadowed  affections  deep-seated  and  unknown.  Par- 
adoxical as  it  may  sound  to  the  inexperienced,  we  are 
enriched  by  losses  ;  and  many  a  man  has  emerged  from 
sorrow  wiser,  happier  than  before.  The  rod  has  struck 
the  rock,  and  from  the  hard  and  flinty  bosom  has  gushed 
forth  a  sensibility  which  brings  a  blessing.  Sympathy 
with  others,  gentleness,  patience,  love,  forgiveness,  meek- 
ness,— are  they  not  all  qualities  of  a  benign  mood  ? — are 
nurtured  always  and  only  amid  real  tears.  Let  a  man  be 
subject  all  his  life  to  the  hot  glare  of  prosperity,  and  the 
same  effect  is  produced  on  his  sensibilities  as  on  a  clayey 
soil  by  the  summer  solstice — it  is  baked  hard  and  dry. 
Mr.  Dombey  stands  as  the  pattern  of  the  class — hard, 
cold,  stiff,  iron ;  the  world  made  for  him,  and  his  proud 
will  the  central  power.  He  needs  to  be  softened,  and 
affliction  must  do  it.  To  make  a  man  of  him,  something 
must  touch  the  hidden  fountain  of  tears.  To  make  him 
thankful,  cheerful,  and  serenely  happy,  he  must  suffer. 
To  make  one  blessed,  the  iron  stiffness  must  come  out 
from  pride  and  stateliness  ;  before  one  can  weep  for  joy, 
he   must  weep  for  sorrow  ;  before  one  can  become  con- 


1 3  8  Thanksgiving. 

scious  of  the  deep  power  and  blessedness  of  his  own 
being,  he  must  bow  his  head  to  stormy  sorrows,  and  be- 
come a  little  child.     Goethe  has  hit  a  noble  truth  : 


"  lie  who  ne'er  eats  his  bread  with  sighs, 
Or  through  the  live -long  night 
Ne'er  weeping  on  his  pillow  lies, 
Knows  not  divine  delight."  * 

In  the  Sketch-Book  of  Mr.  Irving  there  is  one  piece, 
entitled  "  The  Wife,"  which  is  the  general  favorite  of 
young  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  and  it  is  much  to 
their  credit  and  honor  that  it  is  so.  It  represents  a  city- 
merchant  unexpectedly  and  irretrievably  embarrassed  in 
affairs,  and  brought  down  from  affluence  to  bankruptcy. 
Vacating  his  opulent  mansion,  and  taking  a  modest  cot- 
tage in  the  rural  suburbs,  he  is  just  about  to  go  to  his 
new  home,  to  join  his  young  wife — and  he  is  tortured 
with  the  apprehension  of  finding  her  weary,  dejected,  and 
disconsolate.  Instead  of  this,  a  new  chapter  in  life,  be- 
fore unread,  is  opened  to  his  eye.  She  comes  tripping 
forth  to  the  gate  to  meet  him,  full  of  cheerfulness  and  de- 
light ;  and  to  his  astonishment  he  discovers  that  his 
dreaded  disasters  have  given  birth  to  a  novel  content- 
ment and  enjoyment.  Has  not  that  experience  been  re- 
duplicated many  times  in  seasons  of  commercial  distress  ? 
When  gallant  fortunes  are  wrecked,  a  minister  of  religion 

*  "  Wer  nie  sein  Brod  mit  Thranen  ass, 
Wer  nie  durch  lange  Mitternachte 
Aut  seinem  Bette  weinend  sass, 
Der  kennt  euch  nicht,  ihr  hohen  Machte."     • 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears.  139 

moves  about  endeavoring  to  cheer  those  who  are  afflict- 
ed by  the  loss  of  their  estate,  with  the  best  sympathy 
and  cordials  he  can  administer.  A  year  passes,  and  what 
is  the  result  ?  You  were  forced  to  reduce  and  retrench 
your  expenses  to  a  very  low  degree  ;  you  dispensed  with 
familiar  luxuries  ;  you  made  many  sacrifices  \  you  have 
practised  sharp  denials ;  but  I  should  not  be  surprised  to 
hear  you  say  that  this  was  the  happiest  portion  of  your 
life.  You  and  your  family  have  been  united  in  a  closer 
and  gentler  sympathy ;  you  have  found  in  one  true  and 
warm  heart  a  love  which  was  purer  and  stronger  than 
ever ;  your  children  have  shown  a  considerate  affection 
and  care  for  you  under  your  new  burdens,  which  has 
made  you  proud  and  happy;  they  have  all  tasted  the 
novel  pleasure  of  foregoing  personal  preferences  for  the 
sake  of  comforting  and  aiding  you ;  you  have  preserved 
a  good  name — an  untarnished  honor;  and  should  you 
rise  again  to  wealth  and  splendor,  I  am  not  sure  but  you 
will  always  look  back  to  this  season  of  trial  as  the  one  in 
which  you  gathered  the  richest  harvest  of  love  and  sym- 
pathy and  cheerfulness  and  contentment  that  ever  you 
knew. 

If  Hume  and  Voltaire,  and  Rousseau  and  Bentham — 
unmarried  as  they  all  were — had  each  been  the  father  of 
a  family ;  if  they  had  ever  gone  in  person  to  summon 
the  family-physician  in  some  exigency  of  intense  anxiety, 
we  should  never  have  heard  of  those  frosty  and  infidel 
philosophies  from  their  pens  by  which  so  many  hearts 
have  been  chilled  and  cursed.  As  you  entered  the  fam- 
ily-chamber, and  bent  over  the  couch  hallowed  by  the 
"  great  mystery  of  birth,"  and  the  tears  of  high-wrought 


1 40  Thanksgiving. 

sensibility  could  not  be  restrained  as  you  caught  the 
breath  of  your  first-born,  you  discovered  all  at  once  that 
a  new  well  had  begun  to  spring  up  in  your  soul,  deep  and 
living  beyond  the  reach  of  drouth. 

Sickness  has  come,  and  the  time  for  watching,  weari- 
ness, and  prayer.  That  child,  who  had  lived  long  enough 
to  be  the  music  and  the  light  of  your  dwelling,  twining 
itself  around  your  living  self,  and  associated  with  every 
hope  and  happiness  of  your  life,  is  now  in  fearful  peril. 
Its  hot  and  hectic  cheek  lies  against  your  own,  as  you 
pace  the  room  in  the  dead  of  night,  bearing  it  to  and 
fro  in  its  suffering  and  patience.  In  those  hours  of  sus- 
pense and  pain  the  seed  is  dropping  fast  for  a  future 
harvesting — if  your  child  should  live,  in  love  and  tender- 
ness and  sympathy  ;  should  it  die,  a  bosom  full  of  gentle 
memories  and  great  thoughts,  too  great  for  words,  cluster- 
ing about  this  one  belief,  that,  should  you  act  your  part 
aright,  you  will  meet  in  heaven  a  bright  spirit  who  will 
call  you  father.  I  see  in  your  dwelling  a  little  cofhn,  and 
within  it  a  form  exquisitely  moulded,  the  ringlets  parted 
on  its  white  and  rounded  forehead  ;  an  unopened  bud  lies 
on  its  bosom,  and  were  it  not  for  that  marble  coldness, 
you  might  take  it  for  a  sleeping  angel.  And  there  you 
stand,  the  tears  falling  down  your  cheek,  as  the  rain- 
drops drip  from  the  boughs  after  a  shower.  Tell  us,  now, 
does  the  thought  ever  occur  to  you  to  wish  that  your 
child  had  never  been  given  you  ?  Would  you  purchase 
exemption  from  all  this  grief  at  the  price  of  forgetfulness  ? 
Would  you,  if  you  could,  overstep  all  this  anguish,  and  be 
again  as  you  were  before  that  child  had  an  existence  ? 
Never.    That  brief  scene  of  compressed  sorrow  is  more 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears.  141 

fruitful  in  all  which  belongs  to  a  soul-harvest  than  a  score 
of  years  passed  in  cold  and  polished  prosperity ;  and  from 
that  small  grave  you  will  reap  many  a  sheaf  of  blended 
memories  and  hopes  and  gentle  affections,  every  year,  till 
you  are  yourself  laid  by  its  side. 

"  The  good  are  better  made  by  ill, 
As  odors  crushed  are  sweeter  still." 

It  is  said  that  one  of  the  most  distinguished  senators 
of  our  country,  who  was  bereaved  of  a  little  child,  when 
his  eye  rested,  months  afterwards,  on  a  small  worsted  shoe 
— recalling,  as  few  things  can  more  vividly,  the  bright 
vision  which  had  fled — put  it  into  his  bosom,  where,  as 
was  known,  he  carried  it  long  next  to  his  large  and  manly 
heart.  That  heart  had  a  calmer  pulse,  a  gentler  sym- 
pathy, a  richer  sensibility,  a  truer  greatness,  because  of 
contact  with  that  small  memorial  of  a  domestic  sorrow. 

There  is  an  incident  in  the  life  of  Edmund  Burke, 
which  is  familiar  to  all  who  cherish  his  great  fame.  In 
the  evening  of  public  life  he  lost  his  only  son,  at  the  age 
of  twenty-one,  of  the  rarest  genius  and  varied  accom- 
plishments. The  favorite  horse  of  this  young  man,  after 
the  death  of  his  master,  was  turned  into  the  park  and 
treated  with  the  utmost  tenderness.  On  a  certain  day 
long  afterwards,  when  Mr.  Burke  himself  was  walking  in 
the  fields,  this  petted  animal  came  up  to  the  stile,  and,  as 
if  in  expression  of  his  mute  sympathy,  put  his  head  over 
the  shoulder  of  the  bereaved  father.  Struck  with  the 
singularity  of  the  act,  and  overpowered  with  the  memories 
which  it  awakened,  he  flung  his  arms  around  the  neck  of 


1 42  Thanksgiving. 

the  horse  and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears.  The  incident 
was  observed  by  one  passing  by,  and  gave  rise  to  the 
rumor  that  Mr.  Burke  had  been  smitten  with  sudden  in- 
sanity. But  never  did  the  mind  of  that  great  statesman 
display  a  manlier  quality ;  and  when  that  sudden  tear- 
flush  had  subsided  into  a  calmer  recollection,  had  you 
asked  England's  most  philosophical  orator  for  an  analysis 
of  that  experience,  and  to  give  you  the  balance  of  sorrows 
and  joys,  he  would  have  answered  you  in  the  words  of 
England's  laureate  : 

"  Better  to  have  loved  and  lost, 
Than  never  to  have  loved  at  all." 

There  are  some  persons  who  think  it  unkind  to  speak 
to  the  bereaved  of  their  losses.  Their  mistaken  art  it  is 
to  console,  by  diverting  the  thoughts  from  all  memory  of 
that  which  occasioned  pain.  Judged  by  this  policy,  every 
allusion  to  a  deceased  friend  would  be  an  unwelcome 
intruder.  What  sciolists  in  the  treatment  of  the  human 
heart,  are  they  who  prescribe  oblivion  for  its  cure  !  From 
such  a  sowing  can  come  only  a  harvest  of  nettles  and 
rankest  weeds.  Dam  up  the  flow  of  tears  by  violent  ob- 
struction, and  the  back-water  will  drown  and  desolate  the 
soul.  Let  departed  friends  be  welcomed  back  to  your 
thoughts,  for  you  cannot  be  happy  unless  you  remember 
them ;  and  let  your  love  for  the  lost  make  you  more 
gentle,  more  tender,  more  affectionate,  towards  the  liv- 
ing. 

I  alluded,  a  short  time  back,  to  the  poetic  conceit  of 
Mr.  Moore,  which  represents  a  Peri  gaining  admission  to 


The  Blessedness  of  Tears.  1 43 

heaven,  by  bringing  some  gift  esteemed  by  heaven  most 
dear.     And  what  was  that  ? 

First,  she  tried  the  sigh  of  expiring  love,  sacrificing 
itself  for  the  good  of  another ;  but  the  crystal  bars  moved 
not  yet.  Next  she  brought  the  last  life-drop  of  a  hero's 
blood,  dying  for  freedom  and  his  country ;  but  this  did 
not  avail.  At  last  she  spies  a  man,  hard  and  haggard  in 
sin.  Crime  had  crimsoned  his  soul,  and  he  had  no  hope, 
no  joy.  Across  his  path  there  passes  a  little  child,  inno- 
cent and  glad  ;  and  at  evening  it  kneels  before  his  eyes 
in  simple  prayer. 

"  And  how  felt  he,  that  wretched  man 

Reclining  there — while  memory  ran 

O'er  many  a  year  of  guilt  and  strife  ? 
4  There  was  a  time,'  he  said,  in  mild, 

Heart-humbled  tears — '  thou  blessed  child, 

When,  young  and  happy,  pure  as  thou, 

I  looked  and  prayed  like  thee  :  but  now  ' — 

He  hung  his  head  :  each  nobler  aim 

And  hope  and  feeling  which  had  slept 

From  boyhood-hour,  that  instant  came 

Fresh  o'er  him,  and  he  wept — he  wept ! 

Blest  tears  of  soul-felt  penitence  ! 

In  whose  benign,  redeeming  flow, 

Is  felt  the  first,  the  only  sense 

Of  guiltless  joy  that  guilt  can  know. 

Heaven's  choicest  gift  at  last  was  found.  Divest  the 
rhythm  of  all  that  is  fanciful  and  scenic  in  form,  what  is 
the  residuum  but  that  substantial  truth  which  fell  from 
the  lips  of  the  Son  of  God  ?  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven !  "     Let  this 


1 44  Thanksgiving. 

evangelic  lesson  be  learned  and  practised  by  all,  and  we 
shall  better  comprehend  on  earth  and  in  heaven  these 
words  of  the  Spirit :  "  They  that  sow  in  tears,  shall  reap  in 
joy."  Through  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  peni- 
tential sensibility  gives  birth  to  peace,  to  the  gladness  of 
hope,  joy  unspeakable,  and  everlasting  songs. 


CHEAP    CONTENTMENT. 


He  hath  made  every  thing  beautiful  in  his  time. 

Eccl.  3 :  II, 


VII. 

CHEAP    CONTENTMENT. 

Happiness  depends  more  upon  those  things  which 
are  common  to  all  than  upon  those  which  are  the  rare 
and  signal  property  of  the  few.  Those  matters  in  which 
men  differ  from  one  another  on  the  scale  of  social  con- 
dition, are  not  half  so  important  and  valuable  as  those  in 
which  they  agree.  In  regard  to  all  which  is  substantial 
and  needful  for  our  good,  it  is  certainly  true,  "  the  same 
Lord  over  all  is  rich  unto  all." 

Take  the  two  extremes  of  life — infancy  and  age.  It 
might  strike  the  ear  of  some  as  a  very  questionable  truth 
when  we  say,  that  it  is  altogether  unnecessary  to  do  any 
thing  by  way  of  making  a  little  child  happy.  But  care- 
ful observation  will  fully  confirm  the  remark.  Our  bene- 
ficent Maker  has  abundantly  provided  for  the  happiness 
of  children,  and  of  all  children,  alike  ;  and  all  that  is 
needful  on  our  part  is  to  be  careful  to  put  no  obstructions 
in  their  way.  The  brook  needs  no  artificial  aid  to  give 
motion  and  music  to  its  waters ;  throw  no  dam  across  it, 
and  it  will  take  care  of  itself,  delighted  with  the  freeness 
and  swiftness  of  its  running.  No  more  does  a  young 
child  need  any  expensive  and  solicitous  thought  for  its 


1 4  8  Thanksgiving, 

happiness.  The  first  pleasures  of  the  human  infant  are 
physical  altogether,  such  as  accompany  the  gratification 
of  its  animal  appetites.  Next  to  these,  are  the  pleasures 
of  the  imagination,  when  the  young  child  has  attained 
sufficient  growth  to  hold  its  toys,  and  dispose  around  it 
the  materials  of  amusement,  investing  them  with  life, 
conversing  with  them,  or  soliloquizing  among  them,  as 
if  they  were  living  personages.  Always  excepting  those 
rare  cases  of  extreme  penury,  happily  so  rare  with  us, 
when  infant  and  adult  life  pine  away  in  desperate  famine, 
what  possible  difference  can  there  be  between  one  child 
and  another,  in  palace  or  cottage,  as  to  the  amount  of 
their  physical  enjoyment  ?  Parental  fondness  takes  pride 
and  pleasure  in  surrounding  the  occupants  of  a  nursery 
with  every  object  which  itself  may  imagine  to  be  neces- 
sary ;  and  so  pleases  itself  by  fancying  that  it  is  pleasing 
the  object  of  its  needless  affluence.  But  what  matters  it 
to  a  child,  of  what  rank  in  life,  and  of  what  quality  of  clay 
may  be  the  person  from  whom  it  draws  its  sustenance, 
provided  it  find  enough  to  satisfy  its  appetite  ?  Adult 
vanity  may  feel  the  difference  to  itself;  but  what  differ- 
ence does  it  make  to  an  infant-child,  whether  it  be  dressed 
in  costly  lace  or  linsey-woolsey,  or  is  without  any  dress 
at  all,  if  its  tender  surface  feels  that  degree  of  warmth 
or  coolness  which  is  most  agreeable  ?  If  it  be  permitted 
to  fall  asleep  just  when  it  feels  inclined,  and  sleep  as 
long  and  soundly  as  it  will,  what  does  it  care  whether 
it  swing  on  "a  tree-top,"  heedless  of  a  fall,  or  is  rocked 
in  a  nautilus-shaped  cradle,  inlaid  with  pearl,  with  artistic 
forms  of  angels  spreading  their  wings  over  its  satin 
canopy  ?     The  delight  of  motion,  the  pleasure  of  exercis- 


Cheap  Contentment.  149 

ing  their  own  limbs  and  organs,  is  an  enjoyment  which 
childhood  shares  with  lambs  scampering  down  the  hill- 
side ;  with  birds,  now  mounting  aloft,  and  now  shoot- 
ing downwards.  If  this  motion  be  only  allowed  them 
free  and  unmolested,  of  what  concern  is  it  to  children 
whether  they  romp  in  a  garret,  a  corn-barn,  or  on  a 
velvet  carpet,  and  within  tapestried  walls?  At  a  very 
early  age,  children  take  delight  in  matings  and  com- 
panionships. Who  ever  observed  among  them  any  re- 
gard for  the  distinctions  of  rank  and  wealth,  if  left  to 
themselves,  unpoisoned  by  the  suggestions  of  older  pride  ? 
In  their  overweening  care  of  their  first-born,  parents 
do  not  discover — but  discover  it  at  length  they  do  when 
observation  has  grown  calmer  and  wiser — that  it  is  alto- 
gether superfluous  to  purchase  expensive  toys,  and  take 
pains  to  invent  amusement  for  young  children.  The  only 
value  of  a  toy  is  to  help  that  earliest  of  the  faculties,  the 
imagination,  in  its  pleasant  and  playful  creations.  For 
the  pleasure  of  infantine  architecture,  a  few  corn-cobs, 
and  as  many  small  blocks,  which  never  cost  a  penny,  will 
do  as  good  a  service,  and  confer  as  much  real  satisfac- 
tion, as  costly  devices  of  ivory  and  sandal- wood  ;  and  for 
all  the  play  and  pleasure  of  imaginary  maternity,  while, 
as  yet,  the  young  child  is  in  the  honest  simplicity  of  na- 
ture, untouched  by  the  artificial  lessons  of  pride,  a  doll 
constructed  of  rags  and  charcoal  will  excite  every  whit 
as  much  of  happy  prattle,  and  accomplish  as  kindly  a 
service,  on  the  bare  boards  of  the  poor  man's  cottage,  as 
the  costlier  fabric  of  wax  and  porcelain  in  the  carpeted 
nursery  of  the  rich ;  and  a  country-boy,  nestling  down  on 
the  warm  side  of  a  shed,  "  digging  his  Lilliputian  well, 


150  Thanksgiving. 

and  fencing  in  his  six-inch  barn-yard,"  will  find  a  serener 
delight  than  his  metropolitan  contemporary,  whom  afflu- 
ent indulgence  is  overburdening  with  the  entertainments 
and  pastimes  of  expensive  art.  Never  was  there  a  vainer, 
a  more  useless  thing,  than  to  labor  to  make  a  young 
child  happy.  Kind  nature  has  provided  for  all  alike  at 
that  period,  if  you  will  not  unnecessarily  obstruct  their 
innocent  freedom,  nor  throw  your  shadow  in  the  way  of 
their  sunshine.  Study  to  supply  them  with  means  of  hap- 
piness, and  in  manifold  instances  you  will  only  defeat 
your  own  intention,  kindling  up  an  unnatural  craving,  a 
querulousness,  and  dissatisfaction,  which  is  the  greatest 
of  curses  which  wealth  can  inflict  on  the  tender  nature  of 
childhood. 

Pass  now  to  the  opposite  extreme  of  life — to  old  age — 
and  you  will  observe  that  what  is  most  essential  to  its 
comfort  is  common  to  all  who  have  reached  its  dignified 
tranquillity.  In  the  words  of  Dr.  Paley,  "  it  is  not  for  youth 
alone  that  the  great  Parent  of  creation  hath  provided. 
Happiness  is  found  with  the  purring  cat,  no  less  than  with 
the  playful  kitten  ;  in  the  arm-chair  of  dozing  age  as 
well  as  in  the  sprightliness  and  animation  of  youthful  re- 
creations. To  novelty,  to  acuteness  of  sensation,  to  hope, 
to  ardor  of  pursuit,  succeeds  what  is,  in  no  inconsider- 
able degree,  an  equivalent  for  them  all,  '  perception  of 
ease.'  Herein  is  the  exact  difference  between  the  young 
and  the  old  :  the  young  are  happy  when  enjoying  pleas- 
ure j  the  old  are  happy  when  free  from  pain.  The  vigor 
of  youth  is  stimulated  to  action  by  impatience  of  rest ; 
whilst  to  the  imbecility  of  age,  quietness  and  repose 
become    positive   gratifications.      In  one  important  re- 


Cheap  Contentment.  151 

spect  the  advantage  is  with  the  old.  A  state  of  ease  is, 
generally  speaking,  more  attainable  than  a  state  of  pleas- 
ure. A  constitution,  therefore,  which  can  enjoy  ease,  is 
preferable  to  that  which  can  taste  only  pleasure.  This 
same  perception  of  ease  oftentimes  renders  old  age  a 
condition  of  great  comfort,  especially  when  riding  at 
its  anchor  after  a  busy  and  tempestuous  life.  It  is  well 
described  by  Rousseau  to  be  the  interval  of  repose  and 
enjoyment  between  the  hurry  and  the  end  of  life."  Do 
not  imagine  that  wealth  ministers  to  the  happiness  of 
age,  by  putting  at  its  disposal  excitements  and  luxuries. 
It  needs  not  brilliancy,  but  prefers  the  softer  shade. 
Noisy  mirth,  the  revel,  and  the  dance,  are  distasteful  to 
one  who  asks  for  nothing  but  tranquil  rest.  Expensive 
journeyings,  voyages,  and  spectacles,  so  attractive  to  the 
young,  have  no  charms  for  those  who  desire  only  to  be 
still.  Desires  have  failed,  the  daughters  of  music  are 
brought  low ;  and  could  your  affluence  command  all  the 
sources  of  delight  which  were  the  ambition  of  younger 
life,  when  the  passions  were  impetuous  and  the  pulses 
strong,  you  could  not  give  one  moment's  happiness  to 
those  who  have  reached  the  period  of  life  when  they 
need  nothing  for  their  happiness  but  to  be  freed  from  all 
physical  and  mental  pain,  and  left  to  their  long-sought 
and  undisturbed  repose.  An  unspeakable  pleasure  and 
privilege  it  is  when  filial  gratitude  is  permitted  to  minister 
to  parental  infirmity  and  age  ;  but  expensive,  over-careful 
and  officious  kindness  to  such,  is  far  more  pleasant  to 
those  who  give,  than  it  is  necessary  to  those  who  receive  it ; 
for  their  wants  are  few  and  simple,  within  the  reach  of  the 
humble  as  the  opulent ;  and  as  it  was  with  infancy,  so  is 


152  Thanksgiving, 

it  with  age  :  if  you  will  but  avoid  putting  obstacles  and 
obstructions  in  its  way,  our  Creator  hath  provided  for  its 
cheap  and  common  contentment. 

I  have  spoken  of  a  community  of  blessings  at  differ- 
ent ages  of  life.  Let  us  look  at  differences  of  condition. 
The  chief  necessities  of  cur  nature  are  very  few,  and 
very  soon  and  easily  supplied.  The  healthful  appetites 
of  the  body  are  common  to  all.  If  these  are  satisfied, 
wherein  lies  the  advantage  of  affluence  over  mediocrity  ? 
The  true  limit  is  in  our  nature,  not  in  our  means.  The 
appetite  demands  a  certain  supply;  if  a  poor  man  ac- 
complishes this,  what  more  than  this  can  be  accomplish- 
ed by  the  rich  ?  If  one's  appetites  were  multiplied  in  pro- 
portion to  his  means  of  gratifying  them ;  if  his  capacity 
for  eating  and  drinking  was  enlarged,  in  some  correspond- 
ence to  his  ability  to  provide  viands  and  beverages  ;  if 
his  power  to  sleep,  for  the  length  of  its  indulgence  or  the 
sweetness  of  its  oblivion,  were  graduated  by  the  number 
and  quality  of  the  beds  his  wealth  could  purchase;  if 
his  various  organs  and  senses  acquired  sensibility  just 
as  fast  as  he  acquired  the  means  of  expending  for  their 
gratification  ;  if  the  sense  of  comfort  in  the  use  of  rai- 
ment were  in  any  degree  proportioned  to  his  power  of 
buying  every  species  of  wearing  apparel  by  the  bale  or 
cargo ;  if  the  retina  of  the  eye  were  expanded,  in  equal 
degree  with  the  enlargement  of  one's  ability  to  pay  for 
all  objects  of  beauty,  and  the  tympanum  of  the  ear  gather- 
ed to  itself  new  faculties  of  perception  and  enjoyment 
just  as  fast  as  its  possessor  accumulated  around  him  the 
wealth  of  music  ;  if  all  this  were  true,  then  might  we  see 
the  prodigious  advantage  of  the  rich  over  the  poor,  in  the 


Cheap  Contentment.  153 

materials  of  physical  enjoyments.  But  there  is  nothing 
like  this  in  the  dispensations  of  Providence.  The  length 
of  one's  purse  cannot  add  one  inch  to  his  stature,  nor  one 
capacity  to  his  organs;  the  plethora  of  his  check-book  gives 
no  enlargement  to  limb,  sense,  or  faculty.  In  all  but 
the  imaginary  appetites  of  our  physical  nature,  there  is 
an  absolute  equality  among  all.  We  cannot  transcend  the 
capacities  of  our  constitution.  Build  and  own  as  many 
palaces  as  did  Solomon,  by  a  law  of  your  nature  you  can- 
not be  in  more  than  one  place  at  a  time ;  purchase  as 
many  horses  as  ever  stood  in  stalls  of  cedar,  in  the  sta- 
bles of  any  monarch,  so  long  as  you  are  a  man,  and  not  a 
monster,  you  can  bestride  only  one  at  once.  Should  as 
many  cup-bearers  as  stood  before  Persian  thrones  of  gold 
wait  on  your  thirst,  and  as  many  oxen  and  sheep  load  your 
tables  as  were  daily  served  in  ancient  palaces,  and  as  many 
beds  of  ivory,  with  sounds  of  adjacent  fountains  lulling 
to  repose,  as  ever  were  seen  in  Aladdin's  Dream,  and  as 
many  garments  of  silk  and  wool  and  needle-work  as 
make  up  the  wardrobe  of  an  oriental  prince,  you  could 
neither  eat,  nor  drink,  nor  sleep,  nor  wear  one  whit  more 
than  the  common  faculties  and  appetites  of  our  nature 
require  for  your  comfort.  Strive  to  exceed  these,  and 
punitive  reaction  will  prove  your  folly.  Strive  to  surpass 
the  ordinary  bounds  of  nature,  and  the  keen  relish  of  health 
departs,  enjoyment  is  turned  into  loathing ;  excess  ex- 
acts its  penalty,  and  you  are  thrown  back  upon  the  wise 
equalities  of  nature,  convinced  that  with  these  you  can 
never  trifle  without  doing  yourself  a  mischief.  The 
sleep  of  the  laboring  man  is  sweet.  Vigorous  is  the 
relish  with  which  he  eats  the  bread  of  industry.     Fortu- 


1 54  Thanksgiving. 

nate  are  the  affluent  if  they  can  boast  as  much.  They 
can  certainly  boast  of  nothing  more.  Just  here,  on  this 
cheap  and  common  ground,  the  wisdom  of  Inspiration 
puts  the  limit  of  physical  good.  "  Hast  thou  found  ho- 
ney ?  eat  so  much  as  is  sufficient  for  thee."  The  expe- 
rience of  any  child  will  tell  you  what  will  be  the  conse- 
quences of  repletion  beyond  sufficiency. 

Travellers  in  the  deserts  of  the  East  are  often  de- 
ceived by  the  mirage,  that  singular  reflection  of  earth  and 
sky,  which  assumes  the  appearance  of  inviting  waters. 
No  sooner  have  they  reached  the  place  of  that  welcome 
vision,  than  they  find  it  sand  instead  of  water ;  and  sur- 
prised are  they,  when  turning  round  upon  the  path  which 
they  have  already  trodden,  to  see  in  the  horizon  they 
have  left  behind  them  the  same  illusive  spectacle — the 
vision  of  water  now,  where,  a  short  time  before,  they 
found  nothing  but  sand.  Just  so  it  is  in  the  pilgrimage 
of  life.  There  is  a  mirage  before  us  and  another  behind 
us ;  but  all  the  water  we  shall  find  in  the  desert  is  that 
we  carry  along  with  us  day  by  clay.  The  place  where 
we  now  are  is  the  very  one  which  was  once  overhung 
with  the  mirrored  promise  of  satisfaction  ;  we  have  reach- 
ed the  spot,  the  illusion  changes,  and  we  now  are  filled 
with  regret  because  we  did  not  see  the  streams  and  the 
lakes  which  lay  along  the  path  which  we  have  already 
traversed.  The  enjoyments  of  life  are  to  be  found  in 
our  present  condition  and  occupations  ;  and  the  wells 
from  which  we  drink  must  be  dug  day  by  day  where  we 
pitch  our  tabernacle.  Taking  life  just  as  it  is,  at  this 
our  present  time,  we  must  extract  the  true  elixir  of  con- 
tentment from  its  common  realities.     Vastly  are  we  to  be 


Cheap  Contentment.  155 

commiserated  if  we  are  always  to  be  the  sport  of  illusive 
hope  and  illusive  regrets ;  not  having  learned  as  yet  how 
the  very  sands  on  which  we  tread  may  become  grateful 
as  the  greensward  to  our  feet,  in  the  march  of  duty  and 
the  offices  of  affection.  How  much  I  should  be  privi- 
leged to  do  for  the  happiness  of  the  reader,  if  I  could  suc- 
ceed in  fairly  lodging  the  conviction  in  his  mind,  that 
this  succession  of  work  and  rest,  care  and  relaxation, 
duty  and  sorrow,  which  compose  the  substance  of  our 
every-day  life,  this  is  the  material,  the  common  sand, 
dirt  and  rubbish,  out  of  which  we  must  gather  all  the  par- 
ticles of  true  gold,  which  constitute  the  ordinary  means 
of  our  enjoyment  in  this  earthly  life. 

A  young  couple  commence  their  married  life  in  hum- 
ble mediocrity.  No  wealthy  parents  have  enriched  them 
with  dowry  or  inheritance.  No  influential  friends  furnish 
them  with  facility,  or  help,  or  promise.  Self-reliant,  they 
are  to  depend  upon  their  own  industry,  judgment,  and 
patience.  Nothing  have  they  but  their  own  minds  and 
hands,  and  they  work  on.  Busy  temptation  may  whisper 
in  their  ears,  that  theirs  is  a  life  of  thankless  and  ignoble 
drudgery.  The  mirage  begins  to  gleam  in  the  false  fu- 
ture. Drive  away  that  serpent  falsehood,  which  will  poi- 
son your  peace.  Work  is  not  your  bane,  but  your  bless- 
ing. You  know  not  now  how  much  you  owe  to  the  neces- 
sity of  that  daily  toil  which  you  are  tempted  to  hate  and 
despise.  Work  on,  and  find  now  in  honest  industry  and 
frugal  living,  and  your  own  earnings,  cheerfulness,  con- 
tentment, health  of  body  and  mind.  Certain  it  is,  should 
success  crown  your  exertions,  and  affluence  be  your  fu- 
ture lot,  that  from  days  of  listless  leisure   and  splendid 


1 56  thanksgiving, 

tedium,  you  will  look  back  to  this  early  toil,  and  wonder 
why  you  were  not  more  happy  under  its  sober  blessing. 

A  classical  writer  of  our  times,  describing  the  popula- 
tion of  ancient  Rome,  all  its  rank  and  fashion  and  pride 
assembled  in  the  Flavian  Amphitheatre,  as  spectators  of 
imperial  shows,  has  ventured  to  ask  whether  it  was  pro- 
bable that  the  elegant  Fulvia,  then  and  there  present, 
ever  thought  of  telling  the  happy  news  to  her  friend 
Lucretia  that  her  baby  had  that  day  actually  cut  a  tooth  ! 
The  implication  is,  that  mothers  who  took  delight  in  the 
gladiatorial  exhibitions  of  the  Coliseum,  had  reached  that 
degree  of  splendid  misery  in  which  they  had  entirely 
outlived  all  taste  and  pleasure  for  the  simple  humanities 
of  home.  Hope  and  memory  both  may  stand  aside 
awhile  :  all  that  is  great  and  magnificent  in  the  world 
may  withdraw  for  a  season  from  the  visions  of  the  hum- 
ble pair  whose  fortunes  we  are  following,  for  all  the  world 
to  them  is  that  first-born,  which  has  filled  their  home 
with  wonder  and  gladness.  Smile  not  at  their  simple 
happiness.  What  new  thoughts  and  affections  spring 
into  life ;  what  memories  of  the  babe  of  Bethlehem  form 
a  halo  of  light  around  that  small  cradle,  with  which  their 
home  is  honored  ;  what  discoveries,  what  surprises,  what 
pleasures,  what  imaginations,  what  delights,  are  associated 
with  the  common,  every-day,  and  simple  incidents  of  that 
first  infant's  life  ;  and  the  time,  unhappily,  may  come  in 
later  years,  when  those  very  parents  will  admit  that  some 
discovery,  some  achievement,  or  good-fortune  of  theirs 
which  the  world  admires,  has  actually  caused  less  con- 
gratulation, led  to  less  remark,  and  produced  in  them 
less   of  satisfaction,  than  when,  in   simpler   days,  they 


Cheap  Contentment.  157 

discovered  that  their  first-born  child  had  achieved  the 
wondrous  act  of  cutting  a  tooth.  Be  contented  and 
happy  now.  Lay  hold  of  the  "  fleet  angel  of  opportu- 
nity "  who  has  entered  your  dwelling,  and  suffer  her  not 
to  go  till  she  has  filled  your  heart  with  blessings. 

Now  come  days  of  trial  and  fear.  Adversity  throws 
her  sombre  shadow  over  that  humble  home.  Sickness 
comes,  and  there  are  long  and  weary  watchings  at  the 
bedside.  Is  not  the  mirage  of  remembrance  or  delusive 
hope  a  blessing  now  to  the  thirsty  soul  ?  Ah  !  you  know 
not  what  deep  wells  of  love  are  dug  by  the  sharp  tools 
of  solicitude  and  pain.  Draw  water  now,  and  drink. 
More  blessed  are  ye  in  mutual  trust,  in  mutual  depend- 
ence, in  all  the  ministries  and  offices  of  kindness,  than  if 
sickness  had  never  been  known ;  and  times  of  what  the 
world  calls  prosperity  may  yet  ensue,  when  the  only  way 
in  which  the  hard  heart  can  be  softened,  and  filled  up 
with  blessedness,  will  be  to  recall  the  very  season  through 
which  you  are  now  passing — the  hours  of  watching  you 
have  had  by  one  another,  and  by  your  children,  when 
your  whole  soul  was  suffused  with  tenderness. 

Then  came  disappointments  and  disasters ;  the  little 
fortune  was  wrecked,  and  business  was  deranged,  and 
means  of  subsistence  were  few  and  precarious.  They 
have  gone  down  hand  in  hand  into  a  low  valley,  and 
sometimes  they  are  ready  to  despond  and  fear,  as  un- 
looked-for shadows  settle  around  them.  But  these  are 
times  of  heroism  and  fortitude,  when  the  brave  spirit 
learns  to  dispense  with  what  was  once  thought  to  be  ne- 
cessary, and  so  it  rejoices  in  its  own  independence  :  now 
is  the  time  for  self-denials,  the  foregoing  of  little  pleasures 


158  'Thanksgiving. 

for  another's  help,  of  manly  strugglings  together  for  a 
livelihood,  of  frugal  spendings,  of  careful  savings  ;  what 
you  purchase,  what  you  earn  now,  has  a  value  which  can- 
not be  computed  in  coinage.  Now  is  the  harvest-time  of 
patience  and  trust  and  courage  ;  be  strong,  and  use  your 
sickle  well ;  fill  your  bosom  with  the  sheaves  of  cheap 
yet  priceless  enjoyments,  for  no  plenty  of  the  past  or  the 
future  hath  been,  nor  will  be,  so  rich  in  dear  and  precious 
memories  as  this  very  season  of  trouble,  in  which  folly 
might  tempt  you  to  be  discontented. 

I  will  not  hesitate  to  advance  into  darker  shades. 
We  have  reached  that  stage  in  the  journey  where  death 
becomes  a  visitant  in  the  dwelling.  His  cold  shadow 
falls  on  that  bright  and  happy  child,  and  a  whole  house- 
hold shivers  under  its  chill.  From  that  shadow  they 
cannot  pass  as  yet.  It  seems  at  first,  when  that  dar- 
ling head  had  drooped,  and  that  fair  face  was  overspread 
with  pallor,  and  death  had  actually  taken  your  child 
away,  that  your  heart  would  burst  from  its  prison  to  fol- 
low him.  But  meek  blessings  come  in  the  train  of  sor- 
row. Be  not  afraid  of  the  darkness — for  the  night  shall  be 
light  about  you.  Springs  of  blessedness  will  come  now 
to  the  surface,  of  whose  existence  you  had  never  before 
dreamed.  You  are  passing  through  an  experience  now 
in  which  you  are  laying  up  memories,  hopes,  and  affec- 
tions for  all  your  future  being.  The  child  that  died  out 
of  your  bosom  is  lost  to  the  world,  as  if  it  were  no  more 
than  one  blossom  of  the  Spring.  But  it  will  never  be  lost 
to  you.  How  often,  in  visions  of  day  and  night,  is  that 
bright  and  laughing  countenance  turned  on  you,  as  if  it 
had  been  the  face  of  an  angel.      What  an  unspeakable 


Cheap  Contentment,  159 

tenderness  will  that  memory  impart  whenever  you  look 
upon  living  children,  your  own,  or  those  who  are  poor 
and  neglected.  When  your  eye  falls  upon  children  who 
are  happy,  it  will  not  be  envious  of  their  life,  for  the  life 
of  the  one  who  was  taken  is  safer  and  happier  than 
theirs  \  and  when  you  see  or  hear  of  those  who  have  fal- 
len into  suffering  and  shame,  you  will  have  a  kindly  and 
compassionate  feeling  for  them  •  for  so  might  it  have  been 
with  yours,  but  for  the  safety  and  glory  of  its  translation. 
There  were  no  giving  of  thanks  with  many,  if  there  were 
not  some  way  of  being  happy  in  sorrow.  Blessed  are 
they  that  mourn.  Wait  not  for  future  healing,  but  be 
calm  and  blessed,  as  you  are. 

Count  it  not  presumptuous  if  we  should  dare  to  speak 
of  their  separation,  whose  united  life  we  have  traced  so  far. 
The  blow  has  fallen,  and  one  of  the  twain  is  left  alone. 
The  future  has  no  mirage  now,  nothing  but  embank- 
ments of  cloud ;  the  past  alone  is  bright.  Shall  the  lonely 
pilgrim  travel  back,  expecting  to  find  and  realize  again 
the  vision  which  has  vanished  ?  Not  so.  He  must  find 
a  present  and  immediate  good,  or  he  will  perish.  He 
cannot  be  deluded  by  any  thing  before  or  behind  him. 
His  feet  are  planted  by  the  grave-side,  and  his  eyes  are 
turned  upward.  Strength  has  come,  and  the  bereaved 
can  be  cheerful  still.  The  widow  or  the  deserted  one, 
in  that  widowhood  which  is  worst  of  all,  pressed  by  kind- 
ly necessity,  is  surprised  at  her  own  preternatural  resolu- 
tion and  heroism.  Powers  and  faculties  are  developed 
within  her,  whose  existence  never  before  hac^  been  sus- 
pected. Thrown  off  from  the  supports  to  which  it  had 
clung  before,  the  frail  vine  has   shot   out  into  a  strong 


1 60  Thanksgiving. 

and  elastic  stem.  Sympathy,  honor,  admiration,  and 
rewards  around  her,  gratitude  and  peace  are  within 
her.  Though  she  cannot  anticipate  the  supply  of  her 
wants  in  the  future  journey  of  life,  yet  the  rock  affords  its 
drink,  and  the  dry  sand  is  overspread  with  manna, 
and,  as  she  journeys  on,  that  heavy  body  of  clouds 
which  overhung  the  future  begins  to  brighten,  and 
because  of  trouble  and  anguish  of  spirit,  the  be- 
reaved rejoices  in  hope,  and  the  weary  looks  forward  to 
her  rest. 

What  a  hard,  cold,  cheerless,  hopeless  thing  the  hu- 
man heart  would  be,  if  bereft  of  all  recollections  of  past 
losses,  griefs,  and  sufferings.  The  philosophy  of  the 
world  is  quite  the  reverse  of  this.  When  it  would  pre- 
scribe for  our  happiness,  it  interdicts  any  allusion  to 
past  occurrences  which  are  painful.  But  when  religion 
would  deepen  and  purify  our  blessedness,  it  bids  us 
remember  all,  not  excepting  even  wrong  and  outrage ; 
for,  if  these  be  forgotten,  where  were  forgiveness  and 
tenderness  and  compassion  ?  and  if  memory  be  absent, 
where  can  gratitude  be  found  ?  Come  back,  ye  visions 
of  the  past :  childhood,  removed  now  so  far — our  first 
and  earliest  home — ours  no  longer,  save  in  remem- 
brance ;  follies,  mistakes,  sicknesses,  deliverances,  strug- 
gles, losses,  bereavements,  come  back,  and  help  us  to  be 
meek,  quiet,  tender,  and  grateful.  Come  back,  ye  long- 
mourned,  departed  ones.  Our  homes  and  our  hearts 
would  be  desolate  enough,  if  there  were  no  remembrance 
of  you ;  father,  mother,  husband,  wife,  brother,  sister, 
child,  years  have  gone  since  you  left  us ;  we  have  never 
forgotten  you,  and  the  thought  of  what  you  were  to  us 


Cheap  Contentment.  161 

soothes  us  into  a  special  tenderness  and  affectionateness 
towards  friends  who  survive. 


Tire  not  yourself  with  what  the  old  philosopher  has 
called  the  "  histrionism  of  happiness."  There  is  nothing 
more  empty  of  rewards  than  affectation.  How  many  are 
downright  sick  and  weary  with  show,  brilliancy,  and  splen- 
dor. It  is  grateful  to  the  eye  sometimes  to  look  on  what 
is  plain  and  homely;  to  relieve  that  organ,  strained, 
bleared,  and  blinded  by  long  gazing  on  high-wrought 
colors,  by  turning  it  to  the  sober  shades  of  common  life. 
The  problem  given  us  to  solve — nay,  it  has  been  solved 
for  us — the  lesson  given  us  to  practise,  is  :  to  be  happy, 

TAKING  LIFE  JUST  AS  IT  IS. 

When  we  speak  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ  as  the 
charm  and  coronation  of  all  mercies,  this  is  its  highest 
glory — it  is  accessible  and  free  to  all  alike.  "  Beloved," 
says  the  Apostle  Jude,  "  I  write  to  you  of  the  Common 
Salvation."  So  cheap  are  the  conditions  of  its  inval- 
uable gifts,  that  they  are  absolutely  "  without  money  and 
without  price."  Jesus  of  Nazareth  sat  down  to  meat 
in  the  cottage  at  Bethany  as  well  as  at  the  table  of 
Simon  and  Zaccheus,  the  rich  men  of  their  day.  So 
kindly  and  impartial  are  His  visits  still. 


BALANCINGS  AND  COMPENSATIONS. 


Now  Naaman  was  a  great  man  with  his  master,  and  honourable 
he  was  also  a  mighty  man  in  valour,  bat  he  was  a  leper. 

2  Kings  5  : 1. 


VIII. 

BALANCINGS  AND  COMPENSATIONS. 

Saadi,  the  Persian  Poet,  whose  words  breathe  a  wis- 
dom and  kindliness  not  unlike  those  of  Inspiration,  in- 
forms us  that  he  never  complained  of  his  condition  but 
once — when  his  feet  were  bare,  and  he  had  no  money  to 
buy  shoes ;  but,  meeting  with  a  man  without  feet,  he  in- 
stantly became  contented  with  his  lot. 

The  world  is  full  of  these  strange  balancings  and 
compensations.  It  is  essential  to  our  happiness  that  we 
take  them  into  account. 

We  enter  the  city  of  Damascus  in  its  palmiest  days 
of  ancient  splendor.  Lying  on  the  high-road,  along 
which  passed  the  caravans  of  India,  distinguished  for  the 
beauty  of  its  position,  its  natural  advantages,  begirt  by 
gardens  of  the  richest  fertility,  watered  by  sparkling 
streams  flowing  from  Lebanon ;  there  was  a  time  when  it 
deserved  the  title  which  it  formerly  bore  among  the  Ori- 
entals— "  a  pearl  set  in  emeralds."  In  the  days  of 
Benhadad,  Damascus  was  the  metropolis  of  a  very  power- 
ful empire  ;  for  we  read  that  "  thirty  and  two  kings  " — 
pachas,  as  they  would  now  be  called — accompanied  their 
monarch  in  one  of  the  campaigns  which  he  undertook 


1 66  Thanksgiving. 

against  Samaria.  Entering  this  city,  the  seat  of  arms, 
commerce,  and  wealth,  walking  along  the  principal  street, 
full  of  the  pride  of  life,  our  eye  is  arrested  by  an  equipage 
of  unusual  pretensions.  The  man  whom  it  bears  along 
attracts  universal  regard  and  admiration.  He  is  the 
"observed  of  all  observers."  Inquiring  who  he  can  be, 
we  learn  that  he  is  the  chief  favorite  of  the  king,  the  cap- 
tain of  his  armies,  by  whose  valor  the  country  had 
achieved  splendid  victories,  and  a  proud  deliverance 
from  her  enemies.  This  is  Naaman,  a  great  man  with 
his  master,  and  honorable,  and  no  man  in  the  land  can 
vie  with  him  in  rank,  wealth,  or  honors.  How  many 
envy  him.  All  eyes  follow  him,  as  prancing  steeds  bear 
him  along,  in  a  perpetual  ovation.  "  But  he  was  a 
leper."  Under  all  that  splendid  show,  which  made  him 
the  admiration  of  a  throng,  beneath  that  embroidered 
tunic,  eating  into  his  flesh,  was  an  incurable  and 
loathsome  disease,  which,  had  it  been  known,  would 
have  prevented  the  meanest  man  in  Syria  from  exchang- 
ing places  with  him.  Had  he  been  in  Israel,  his  leprosy 
would  have  disqualified  him  for  all  public  appointments. 
Afflicted  with  no  such  civil  disabilities  in  Syria,  with  all 
distinctions  and  honors,  regarded,  so  far  as  office  and 
rank  and  emolument  wrere  concerned,  as  the  most  favored 
of  men,  nevertheless  he  was  subject  to  one  of  the  sorest 
of  all  calamities,  so  that  life  was  a  burden  to  him. 

The  reader  already  catches  the  drift  of  my  theme — 
perceiving  that  a  small  conjunction  may  serve  as  a  nail 
on  which  to  hang  many  important  suggestions  in  regard 
to  the  estimate  we  should  form  of  human  condition. 
Most  men  are  perpetually  misled  by  appearances.     They 


Balancings  and  Compensations.  167 

conclude  that  he  is  the  most  blessed  who  is  in  possession 
of  those  things  which  they  themselves  desire  and  have 
not.  They  leave  out  of  the  calculation  the  counter- 
weight and  the  drawback,  forgetting  that  he  whom  they 
envy  is  wanting  in  some  other  object  which  they  possess, 
or  is  afflicted  with  some  form  of  suffering  from  which 
they  are  altogether  exempt.  This  is  a  fact  too  true  and 
too  weighty  to  be  overlooked.  The  writer  will  not  be 
suspected  of  any  thing  morbid  or  misanthropic  if  he  gives 
this  fact  a  more  expanded  statement.  There  is  a  "  but " 
in  every  man's  life.  There  is  some  subtraction  to  be 
made  from  the  sum-total  of  his  condition.  There  is 
some  alloy  in  the  metal,  some  one  thing  which  he  could 
wish  were  other  than  it  is,  and  which  is  the  secret 
weight  that  a  wise  Providence  has  attached  to  the  clock- 
work of  life,  the  index-finger  of  which  revolves  on  a  dial 
of  enamel  and  figures  of  gold.  You  are  deceived  and 
made  unhappy  if  you  do  not  take  into  account,  along 
with  all  which  you  admire  and  covet  in  the  condition  of 
another,  just  that  one  subtraction  which  is  suggested  by 
this  little,  surly,  evasive  conjunction,  but.  Here  is  a  man 
of  extensive  business,  of  great  prosperity,  of  abundant 
wealth,  but  cankering  care  has  so  corroded  into  his  life, 
he  can  neither  eat  nor  sleep  in  comfort.  Here  is  a  man- 
sion which  attracts  attention  by  its  costliness  and  ele- 
gance, sumptuous  furniture,  works  of  art ;  but  some  secret 
domestic  sorrow  throws  all  that  splendor  into  shadow. 
Parents  live,  and  are  in  possession  of  such  means  as 
enable  them  to  give  their  children  every  thing ;  but  all 
that  they  could  give  them  was  a  grave.  Jacob  survives  ; 
but  Joseph  is  not,  and  Benjamin  is  taken  away  \  so  that 


1 68  Thanksgiving. 

his  gray  head  droopeth  with  sorrow  towards  the  ground. 
One  retains  his  property,  but  his  character  is  sus- 
pected. Another  rejoices  in  a  good  name,  which  never 
suffered  a  lesion  or  a  stain,  but  he  is  distressed  as 
to  the  means  of  subsistence.  After  years  of  strugglings, 
care,  and  toil,  one  reaches  the  fullest  success  in  his 
profession ;  but  those  who  had  been  the  charm  and 
the  motive  of  life  are  gone,  and  he  is  alone.  David 
ascends  the  throne  of  Israel  amid  regal  honors  and 
affluence  ;  but  how  many  cares  and  distractions  had  he 
in  his  home  and  his  kingdom.  Abraham  was  honored 
with  the  friendship  of  God ;  but  he  had  Ishmael  for  a 
son,  in  whose  behalf  he  wept  and  prayed  without  com- 
fort. Abigail  is  included  in  the  roll  of  the  saints  for  her 
sweetness  and  affectionateness  ;  but  she  had  Nabal,  a 
churl,  for  her  husband.  Paul  gleams  high  among  the 
children  of  men,  as  the  chief  of  the  Christian  apostles ; 
but  he  had  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  which  pierced  him  for 
years,  and  which  he  prayed  might  be  taken  away.  George 
Herbert  united  in  himself  as  many  qualities  of  ancestral 
wealth,  serene  piety,  placid  disposition,  and  poetic 
genius,  as  were  ever  united  in  any  Christian  minis- 
ter ;  but  he  had  an  infidel  brother,  the  leader  of  the 
English  deists.  The  suffrages  of  the  world,  to-day,  would 
place  the  name  of  John  Milton,  for  the  nobility  of  his 
soul,  his  love  of  liberty,  his  sublimity  of  genius,  in  the 
highest  niche  of  human  fame ;  but  Milton  was  blind — 
Milton  was  poor.  The  whole  human  race  admires  the 
boundless  philanthropy  of  Howard,  judging  that  the 
measure  of  his  blessedness  was  full  because  he  was  full 
of  pity  and  love ;  but  he  had  a  dissolute  son,  who  died 


Balancings  and  Compensations.  169 

in  a  mad-house.  You  would  find  it  difficult  to  fix  upon 
another  name  which  gathers  to  itself  more  of  honor,  as 
time  rolls  on,  for  varied  qualities  in  science,  philosophy, 
and  religion,  than  Blaize  Pascal  \  but  all  his  life  he 
waged  incessant  conflict  with  fiercest  pain,  which,  at  the 
early  age  of  thirty-seven,  mastered  and  ended  his  earthly 
life.  Many  listened  to  the  magnificent  eloquence  of 
Robert  Hall,  and  many  now  peruse  his  books  with  de- 
light, who  knew  not  that  these  were  prepared  amid  suf- 
ferings of  body  and  mind  which  twice  deprived  him  of 
reason,  and  which  for  years  rendered  life  well-nigh  intol- 
erable. The  author  of  the  Task  presents  as  many 
claims  to  esteem  and  love,  both  for  talent  and  virtue,  as 
any  man  that  could  be  named  ;  but  William  Cowper  was 
subject  to  that  most  cruel  of  all  calamities  incident  to 
humanity,  insane  melancholy.  Look  at  William  Pitt: 
a  prodigy  of  success  ;  at  twenty-three  years  of  age  the 
Prime  Minister  of  England ;  at  twenty-eight,  occupying 
a  position  in  the  honors  of  his  country,  in  popular 
enthusiasm,  because  of  his  eloquence,  his  power,  his 
acknowledged  authority  in  administering  the  govern- 
ment of  a  great  kingdom,  without  precedent  or  par- 
allel;  but  so  annoyed  by  political  rivalries  and  coali- 
tions, and  so  alarmed  because  of  new  and  terrible  exi- 
gencies arising  out  of  the  revolutions  of  the  Continent, 
that  sleep  and  appetite  forsook  him,  and  a  broken  heart 
laid  him  in  Westminster  Abbey  at  the  early  age  of  forty- 
seven.  A  distinguished  jurist  in  this  country  once  wrote 
to  William  Wirt,  when  in  the  zenith  of  his  fame,  congrat- 
ulating him  on  some  particular  honor  or  success  which 
he  had  just  acquired.     He  was  surprised  by  the  reply 


1 70  Thanksgiving. 

which  he  received  from  that  fascinating  man.  "  I  have 
no  taste  for  worldly  business.  I  go  to  it  reluctantly. 
I  dread  the  world,  the  strife  and  emulation  of  the  bar ; 
but  I  will  do  my  duty ;  that  is  my  religion."  The  world 
had  forgotten  the  event  which  had  left  an  incurable  sor- 
row in  his  heart, — the  death,  years  before,  of  a  daughter, 
whom  he  thus  describes  :  "  She  was  my  companion,  my 
office-companion,  my  librarian,  my  clerk.  My  papers 
now  bear  her  indorsement.  She  pursued  her  studies  in 
my  office,  by  my  side,  sat  with  me,  walked  with  me,  was 
my  inexpressibly  sweet  and  inseparable  companion.  We 
knew  all  her  intelligence,  all  her  pure  and  delicate  sen- 
sibility, the  quickness  and  power  of  her  perceptions, 
her  seraphic  love.  She  was  all  love,  and  loved  all  God's 
creation,  even  the  animals,  trees,  and  plants.  She  loved 
her  God  and  Saviour  with  an  angel-love,  and  died  like  a 
saint."  The  arrow  which  felled  her  passed  also  through  a 
larger  and  nobler  frame,  which  never  rallied  from  the  hurt. 

It  is  needless  to  multiply  examples.  These  are 
not  extraordinary  exceptions,  but  instances  of  a  common 
experience.  There  never  was  one  upon  the  earth,  who, 
however  prospered,  had  not  his  own  weight  and  damper. 
You  see  those  who  are  exempt  from  the  afflictions 
which  are  the  most  severe  in  your  own  case,  and  therefore 
conclude  that  they  are  the  most  fortunate  of  men ;  for- 
getting, meanwhile,  that  they  are  subject  to  some  other 
form  of  trouble,  of  which,  happily,  you  know  nothing  at 
all.  It  may  be  secret,  as  the  leprosy  which  was  hid 
beneath  the  sleeve  of  Naaman ;  or  as  palpable  as  any 
calamity  which  ever  invoked  public  commiseration. 

A  truthful  estimate  can  be  reached  only  by  the  bal- 


Balancings  and  Compensations.  171 

ancing  of  advantages  and  disadvantages.  On  many 
accounts  one  is  to  be  congratulated.  In  many  respects 
you  are  prospered,  but — but,  .  .  "  The  heart  knoweth 
its  own  bitterness."  There  is  the  recent  grief,  or,  what 
is  often  forgotten  by  others,  the  memory  and  the  scar 
of  a  former  affliction,  which  never  is  forgotten  by  the 
heart  itself.  There  is  some  secret  solicitude,  some  deep- 
seated  care,  some  painful  apprehension,  some  invisible 
thorn,  never  suspected  outside  of  the  privacy  of  home, 
or  rankling  unconfessed  in  the  silence  of  a  troubled 
heart.  Naaman  was  a  great  captain,  high  and  honorable, 
but  he  was  a  leper. 

Here  is  a  fact  in  the  arithmetic  of  life  too  important 
to  be  left  out  of  the  computation.  We  must  not  look 
at  our  own  troubles  through  a  magnifying  glass.  It 
is  better  to  consider  them  as  our  own,  suited,  in  their 
nature,  to  ourselves  by  a  Power  wiser  than  we.  This, 
and  not  another,  is  to  be  construed  as  our  own  pecu- 
liar property.  That  which  is  a  trial  to  one,  would  be 
regarded  as  no  trial  at  all  by  another.  Jacob  wrestled 
with  the  angel  most  sturdily  and  manfully  j  nor  was  it 
till  the  finger  of  his  antagonist  touched  a  particular 
sinew,  that  his  strength  faltered.  Achilles  was  invulner- 
able in  every  part  but  one ;  that  one  was  discovered, 
and  wounded.  Oftentimes  men  are  so  constituted  that 
there  is  only  one  place  in  which  a  wound  can  be  inflicted. 
The  arrow  finds  it  before  the  battle  of  life  is  over.  Noth- 
ing else  could  ever  have  given  them  a  pang.  This  may 
be  deferred  for  a  long  time,  but  sooner  or  later  it  comes. 
And  this  must  be  considered  as  belonging  to  us,  and  so 
to  be  borne  with  equanimity  and  patience.     It  is  this 


1 7  2  Thanksgiving. 

thought  which  cures  all  envy  of  others,  and  every  desire 
to  exchange  conditions  with  them.  If  such  a  thing  were 
possible,  we  should  be  the  first,  most  probably,  to  regret 
it.  This  idea  has  been  elaborated,  with  great  force,  by 
several  authors,  ancient  and  modern.  It  was  thought  by 
Socrates  that  if  mankind  could  throw  all  their  miseries 
into  a  common  stock,  and  then  make  a  choice  out  of  the 
whole  heap,  each  would  go  away  with  a  larger  amount  of 
suffering  and  discontent  than  now  attend  the  inflictions 
which  are  appointed  to  each  by  Supreme  Power.  The 
same  idea  is  expanded  by  Horace  in  one  of  the  most 
celebrated  of  his  odes.  Addison,  in  one  of  the  numbers 
of  the  Spectator,  has  constructed  a  very  ingenious  fable 
out  of  the  same  conception,  for  which  he  confessed  him- 
self indebted  to  those  writers  of  antiquity.  The  dream 
took  a  form  somewhat  like  this :  A  proclamation  from 
Jupiter,  that  mortals  might  lay  down  all  their  griefs  and 
calamities,  and  then  each  was  to  choose  out  of  the  heap, 
that  which  he  preferred  as  being  lighter  and  comelier  than 
his  own.  A  vast  plain  was  selected  for  the  purpose  ;  and, 
as  the  whole  race  threw  down  their  pains,  their  deformi- 
ties, and  their  burdens,  the  mass  grew  to  a  prodigious 
size,  reaching  like  a  mountain  to  the  skies.  What  a 
sense  of  relief,  what  an  exuberant  gladness,  was  there, 
upon  this  singular  occasion  ;  every  one  permitted  to  make 
choice  out  of  this  immense  heap  of  any  trouble,  which  he 
should  exchange  for  his  own.  How  soon  that  satisfac- 
tion gave  place  to  a  most  bitter  sorrow !  Not  one  ex- 
change was  made  for  the  better.  A  venerable,  gray- 
headed  man,  who  had  been  greatly  afflicted  for  want  of 
an  heir  to  his  estate,  immediately  seized  as  his  choice  a 


^St  LI 

Nv     of  Tfie 

'TJKVEKSH? 

Balancings  and  Compensations^^  @  173 

.^__-    '    •.      ■ 
son,  who,  because  he  was  undutiful,  had  been   thrown 

upon  the  mass  by  a  disappointed  and  disconsolate  father. 
The  graceless  fellow  soon  made  such  exhibition  of  his 
violent  temper,  his  low  and  vulgar  passions,  that  his  new 
father  would  gladly  have  receded  from  his  choice  as  a 
positive  relief.  In  short,  this  futile  attempt  to  exchange 
burdens  and  maladies  was  the  occasion  of  so  many  mur- 
murs and  complaints,  groans  and  lamentations,  that  the 
Throne  was  petitioned  that  the  old  order  of  things  might 
be  restored,  even  that  mortals  might  be  permitted,  a 
second  time,  to  lay  down  their  loads,  and  each  one  to 
take  up  that  which  was  his  own  again. 

It  was  a  touching  answer  given  to  the  question,  pro- 
posed at  an  exhibition  of  deaf  mutes — "  Which  would 
you  prefer — to  be  blind,  or  deaf  and  dumb  ? "  The  sylph- 
like form  to  whom  the  question,  with  doubtful  delicacy,  had 
been  put,  immediately  wrote  upon  the  slate  these  words  : 
"  Even  so,  Father,  for  so  it  seemeth  good  in  Thy  sight." 

Before  we  can  dream  of  exchanging  conditions  with 
any  mortals,  we  must  be  sure  that  we  know  not  only  what 
we  are  to  gain,  but  as  well  also  what  we  shall  lose.  If  life 
is  justly  described  as  a  barter  of  objects,  before  we  give 
way  to  envy  of  any  man's  possessions,  we  should  ascer- 
tain the  price  at  which  he  has  purchased  them.  This 
idea  was  elaborated  ages  ago  by  Epictetus  in  an  argument 
which  Mrs.  Barbauld  has  paraphrased  in  one  of  her  admi- 
rable essays.  "  We  should  consider  this  world  as  a  great 
mart  of  commerce  where  .fortune  exposes  to  our  view 
various  commodities,  riches,  ease,  tranquillity,  fame,  in- 
tegrity, knowledge.  Every  thing  is  marked  at  a  settled 
price.     Our  time,  our  labor,  our  ingenuity,  are  so  much 


1 74  Thanksgiving. 

ready  money  which  we  are  to  lay  out  to  the  best  advan- 
tage. Examine,  compare,  choose,  reject ;  but  stand  to 
your  own  judgment :  and  do  not,  like  children,  when  you 
have  purchased  one  thing,  repine  that  you  do  not  possess 
another  which  you  did  not  purchase.  Would  you,  for 
instance,  be  rich  ?  Do  you  think  that  single  point  worth 
the  sacrificing  every  thing  else  to  ?  You  may  then  be  rich. 
Thousands  have  become  so  from  the  lowest  beginnings, 
by  toil,  and  patient  diligence,  and  attention  to  the  minutest 
articles  of  expense  and  profit.  But  you  must  give  up  the 
pleasures  of  leisure,  of  a  vacant  mind,  of  a  free,  unsuspi- 
cious temper.  If  you  preserve  your  integrity,  it  must 
be  a  coarse-spun  and  vulgar  honesty.  Those  high  ana" 
lofty  notions  of  morals  which  you  brought  with  you  from 
the  schools  must  be  considerably  lowered  and  mixed 
with  the  baser  alloy  of  a  jealous  and  worldly-minded 
prudence.  You  must  learn  to  do  hard,  if  not  unjust 
things ;  and  for  the  nice  embarrassments  of  a  delicate 
and  ingenuous  spirit,  it  is  necessary  for  you  to  get  rid  of 
them  as  fast  as  possible.  You  must  shut  your  heart 
against  the  Muses,  and  be  content  to  feed  your  under- 
standing with  plain  household  truths.  In  short,  you  must 
not  attempt  to  enlarge  your  ideas  or  polish  your  taste,  or 
refine  your  sentiments  ;  but  must  keep  on  in  one  beaten 
track,  without  turning  aside  either  to  the  right  hand  or 
to  the  left.  '  But  I  cannot  submit  to  drudgery  like  this — 
I  feel  a  spirit  above  it.'  'Tis  well  :  be  above  it,  then ;  only 
do  not  repine  that  you  are  not  rich.  '  But  is  it  not  some 
reproach  upon  the  economy  of  Providence  that  such  a  one, 
who  is  a  mean,  ignorant  fellow,  should  have  amassed  such 
wealth  ? '     Not  in  the  least.     He  has  paid  his  health,  his 


Balancings  and  Compensations.  175 

conscience,  his  liberty,  for  it ;  and  will  you  envy  him  his 
bargain  because  he  outshines  you  in  equipage  and  show  ? 
Lift  up  your  brow  with  a  noble  confidence,  and  say  to 
yourself,  '  I  have  not  these  things,  it  is  true  ;  but  it  is 
because  I  possess  something  better.  I  have  chosen  my 
lot.  I  am  content  and  satisfied.'  The  substance  of  this 
philosophy  is  well  expressed  by  Pope  in  his  Essay  on 
Man  : 

Bring,  then,  these  blessings  to  a  strict  account ; 
Make  fair  deductions  : — see  to  what  they  mount ; 
How  much  of  other  each  is  sure  to  cost ; 
How  each  for  other  oft  is  wholly  lost ; 
How  inconsistent  greater  goods  with  these  ; 
How  sometimes  life  is  risked — and  always  ease. 
Think  ;  and  if  still  the  things  thy  envy  call, 
Say — wouldst  thou  be  the  man  to  whom  they  fall  ? 

But  this  is  only  one  aspect  of  a  great  subject.  To  be 
cured  of  envy  is  one  thing.  This  may  be  accomplished 
by  the  process  now  described,  and  most  portentous 
mistakes  still  be  made  in  the  estimate  of  life. 

Sometimes  the  eye,  glancing  over  a  newspaper,  is 
caught  by  a  glaring  and  pretentious  advertisement  of 
an  infallible  medicine.  Some  one  claims  to  have  travelled 
in  foreign  parts — to  have  been  initiated  into  some  great 
secret  of  nature,  which  promises  a  certain  relief  for  all  the 
most  formidable  maladies  incident  to  humanity.  For  a 
consideration,  he  will  communicate  it  to  others.  Now 
there  is  one  real  panacea  for  all  the  griefs  to  which 
mortals  are  subject.  It  may  be  obtained  without  money 
and  without  price.     It  is  a  prescription  which  will  never 


176  Thanksgiving. 

fail  to  impart  a  genial  warmth  and  comfort  to  the  most 
prostrate  and  exhausted  spirit. 

In  an  algebraic  calculation,  it  is  of  great  consequence 
where  and  how  your  signs  and  quantities  are  placed.  It 
makes  the  greatest  difference  in  the  result  whether  certain 
figures  are  used  as  items  of  subtraction  or  items  of  addition. 
We  have  seen  how  this  particle  "  but"  may  be  used  to  de- 
note the  diversified  amounts  which  are  to  be  subtracted 
from  the  sum-total  of  individual  happiness.  Now  the  very 
same  word  may  be  used,  after  another  method,  to  denote 
the  several  items  of  cheer  and  contentment,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  equation,  which  should  be  added  to  the  estimate 
of  our  condition.  All  the  difference  in  the  world  does  it 
make  whether  your  "  but "  be  regarded  as  a  plus  or  a  minus 
quantity ;  whether  you  use  it  to  denote  the  diminution  or 
the  increase  of  your  possessions.  Now,  the  cheap  but 
invaluable  prescription  for  personal  happiness  may  be 
expressed  in  this  laconic  form.  Let  every  one  estimate 
himself  at  the  very  lowest  stage  of  demerit,  and  then  use 
his  "  but "  to  measure  off  his  ascending  and  accumulating 
mercies.  Instead  of  beginning  at  the  top,  the  pinnacle  of 
success  and  prosperity,  and  proceeding  to  lessen  one's 
happiness  by  what  you  are  forced  to  take  away,  begin  at 
the  opposite  extreme,  at  the  very  nadir  of  one's  demerits, 
and  then  let  every  item  of  God's  goodness  be  a  stepping- 
stone  by  which  you  shall  rise  into  a  joyful  gratitude.  The 
process  might  describe  itself  by  soliloquizing  after  this 
method :  'I  am  without  many  things  which  I  could 
desire,  but  I  have  a  thousand  mercies  beyond  what  I  de- 
serve. I  am  the  man  that  has  seen  afflictions,  but  I  am 
alive,  and  am  not  delivered  over  to  the  pains  of  eternal 


Balancings  and  Compensations,  177 

death.  Troubles  are  on  every  side,  but  I  am  not  in 
despair.  Many  things  come  to  pass  otherwise  than  I 
could  wish,  but  the  Lord  hath  not  dealt  with  me  after 
my  sins,  nor  rewarded  me  according  to  my  iniquities. 
Am  I  in  danger  of  discomposure  and  envy  when  I  see 
the  prosperity  of  such  as  are  never  in  trouble  as  other 
men?  but,  God  be  thanked,  I  am  not  with  those  who 
have  died  in  their  sins,  and  made  their  bed  in  sorrow.  I 
have  been  disappointed  in  many  a  hope  and  confidence  ; 
but,  in  this  will  I  rejoice,  God  is  the  strength  of  my 
heart  and  my  portion  forever.  I  have  met  with  losses  ; 
but  there  is  a  Gospel  which  promises  me  what  never  can 
be  taken  away.  I  am  poor  as  Lazarus — as  lonely,  dis- 
eased, and  forlorn  as  he ;  but  I  have  hope  in  the  Re- 
deemer. My  body  is  infirm  and  racked  with  pain  ;  but 
my  soul  has  life  and  strength  and  joy  in  God.  I  miss 
the  society  of  many  a  friend  who  once  was  my  solace 
and  associate  ;  but  I  have  many  of  increased  kindness 
and  tenderness  who  remain.  Had  troubles  rolled  over 
me  like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  I  could  not  complain  ;  but 
here  I  am — the  mercies  of  heaven  crowning  my  life,  and 
the  portals  of  the  celestial  city  inviting  my  entrance.  I 
am  a  widow ;  but  my  Maker  is  my  husband.  I  am  an 
orphan  ;  but  God  is  my  father.  I  am  childless,  and  my 
tabernacle  is  spoiled ;  but  how  much  better  to  have  sons 
and  daughters  in  the  skies,  than  to  have  Ishmaels  and 
Absaloms  to  pierce  the  heart  with  what  is  sharper  than 
a  serpent's  tooth.  I  have  lost  many  a  noble  opportunity ; 
but  life  is  not  yet  ended,  and  occasions  still  remain.  I 
am  weak  and  worthless ;  but  Christ  has  promised  that 
his  grace  shall  be  sufficient  for  me.  I  ought  to  be  better 
8* 


178  Thanksgiving. 

than  I  am ;  but,  thanks  be  to  God  for  the  promise  of  an 
ultimate  perfection.  Many  a  pleasure,  many  a  gratifica- 
tion, which  others  enjoy,  are  wholly  denied  to  me ;  but, 
God  be  praised  that  he  has  not  left  me  to  seek  all  my 
good  things  in  this  life.  I  am  tortured  often  by  the  fear 
of  death  ;  but  I  can  go  and  sit  down  in  the  tomb  of 
Joseph,  and  think  of  Christ  and  the  resurrection.  I  have 
not  all  the  assurance  of  faith  and  hope  that  I  could 
desire  ;  but,  how  can  I  be  sufficiently  grateful  for  the 
least  glimmer  of  consolation,  through  the  abundant 
mercy  of  the  Son  of  God?  Multiply  thorns,  burdens, 
and  grievances,  as  you  will ;  but  these  afflictions  are  only 
for  a  moment.  Make  my  condition  deplorable  as  you 
can  ;  let  the  worst  that  can  be  conceived  come  to  pass ; 
strip  me  of  friends,  of  property,  of  health,  of  all  things  j 
but,  what  an  unspeakable  honor  and  blessedness  it  is  to 
be  a  child  of  God,  and  the  heir-expectant  of  an  eternal 
kingdom ! ' 

This  is  the  mode  of  computation  which  ought  to 
keep  us  in  perpetual  thankfulness.  It  was  this  method 
of  calculation  which  prompted  John  Newton,  when 
making  a  pastoral  visit  to  a  pious  lady  who  had  met  with 
a  severe  calamity  in  the  sudden  loss  of  all  her  property, 
to  accost  her  with  smiles,  saying,  to  her  surprise,  that  he 
had  come  to  congratulate  her.  "  Congratulate,  Mr.  New- 
ton !  why  not  condole  with  me  ?  "  "  Why  should  I  not 
congratulate  you  for  possessing  that  good  part  which 
never  can  be  taken  away  from  you  ? " 

A  heart  disposed  to  find  material  for  gratitude  on 
all  occasions,  will  never  be  wanting  in  substantial  hap- 
piness. 


Balancings  and  Compensations.  179 

O  happiness  !  our  being's  end  and  aim  ! 

Good,  pleasure,  ease,  content,  whate'er  thy  name  ! 

That  something  still  which  prompts  the  eternal  sigh  ! 

For  which  we  bear  to  live,  or  dare  to  die  ! 

Which  still  so  near  us,  yet  beyond  us  lies  ; 

O'erlooked,  seen  double,  by  the  fool  and  wise. 

Plant  of  celestial  seed  !  if  dropt  below, 

Say  in  what  mortal  soil  thou  deign 'st  to  grow. 

Where  grows  ?     Where  grows  it  not  ?    If  vain  our  toil, 

We  ought  to  blame  the  culture,  not  the  soil. 

Fix'd  to  no  spot  is  happiness  sincere  ; 

'Tis  nowhere  to  be  found,  or  every  where. 

Happiness  is  a  temper  of  the  soul,  not  a  condition 
of  the  person.  Its  essential  elements  are  gratitude, 
kindness,  truth,  honor,  and  unfaltering  trust  in  God ;  a 
disposition  to  see  good  in  all  things,  and  when  evil 
comes,  to  bear  it  with  patience,  and  more  than  that,  with 
joy,  because  it  is  the  will  of  God.  The  will  of  God  !  It 
is  a  phrase  slipped  most  volubly  from  the  tongue,  but 
what  a  world  of  meaning  does  it  contain.  All  things 
appointed  by  infinite  intelligence,  infinite  wisdom,  and 
infinite  love  !  Could  any  one  wish  to  absolve  himself 
from  such  a  jurisdiction? 

When  the  will  of  God  becomes  our  own — when, 
through  the  spirit  of  true  piety,  the  appointments  of 
Providence  and  our  own  choice  are  brought  into  har- 
mony, the  ultimatum  of  our  spiritual  education  is  at- 
tained, and  we  are  prepared  for  an  immortal  blessedness. 
"  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth — and  done  by  us — as  it 
is  in  heaven ! "  Such  must  be  our  daily  prayer.  Let 
others  choose  what  they  will,  pursue  what  they  will,  grasp 
what  they  will  ;    give  me,  for  my  paramount  motive,  a 


1 80  Thanksgiving. 

desire  to  know  and  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  God,  and  I 
have  come  into  possession  of  the  true  elixir  of  life. 

My  God,  my  Father,  while  I  stray 
Far  from  my  home,  in  life's  rough  way, 
Oh,  teach  me  from  my  heart  to  say, 
"  Thy  will  be  done." 

If  thou  shouldst  call  me  to  resign 
What  most  I  prize — it  ne'er  was  mine — 
I  only  yield  thee  what  was  thine  ; 
Thy  will  be  done. 

E'en  if  again  I  ne'er  should  see 
The  friend  more  dear  than  life  to  me, 
Ere  long  we  both  shall  be  with  thee  ; 
Thy  will  be  done. 

Should  pining  sickness  waste  away 
My  life  in  premature  decay, 
My  Father,  still  I  strive  to  say, 
Thy  will  be  done. 

If  but  my  fainting  heart  be  blest 
With  thy  sweet  spirit  for  its  guest, 
My  God,  to  Thee  I  leave  the  rest ; 
Thy  will  be  done. 

Renew  my  will  from  day  to  day  ; 
Blend  it  with  thine,  and  take  away 
All  that  now  makes  it  hard  to  say, 
Thy  will  be  done. 

Then  when  on  earth  I  breathe  no  more 
The  prayer,  oft  mixed  with  tears  before, 
I'll  sing  upon  a  happier  shore* 
"Thy  will  be  done." 


THE    ZEST    OF    LIFE 


My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish 
His  work. 

John  4:34. 


IX. 

THE    ZEST    OF    LIFE. 

John  Howard  once  gave  this  prescription  for  a 
heavy  heart — "  Take  your  hat,  and  walk  off  to  visit  the 
sick,  the  poor  and  afflicted." 

What  is  this  but  a  practical  paraphrase  of  that  teach- 
ing which  our  Lord  has  amplified  and  illustrated  concern- 
ing the  true  zest  of  life  ?  I  use  a  word  of  peculiar  sig- 
nificance. It  will  readily  be  understood  by  all,  even  if 
they  know  nothing  of  its  Persian  origin  and  history.  It 
represents  that  which  makes  the  flavor,  the  relish,  the 
heartiness  of  life. 

It  was  sultry  noon  when  Jesus  came  to  the  well  of 
Sychar.  He  was  travelling  on  foot.  He  was  wearied 
with  his  journey,  and  so  sat  down  on  the  curb.  All  his 
disciples  had  gone  into  the  adjacent  city  to  buy  food  for 
him  and  for  themselves.  There  comes  a  woman  to  draw 
water  at  the  well,  and  Christ  asks  her  to  give  him  some 
water  from  her  pitcher.  This  introduces  a  conversation  of 
a  most  profound  import,  relative  to  living  water  and  ever- 
lasting life  and  spiritual  worship  and  his  own  mission 
as  the  promised  Christ  and  Saviour  of  the  world.  His 
disciples  return  from  their  errand,  and  find  him  engaged 


184  Thanksgiving. 

in  this  spirited  conversation.  They  do  not  presume  to 
interrupt  it.  They  listen,  and  they  marvel.  They  see 
the  woman  drop  her  water-pot  and  run  to  the  city,  with 
her  strange  testimony,  and  already  troops  of  her  neigh- 
bors and  fellow-citizens  are  on  their  way  to  see  for  them- 
selves this  extraordinary  Prophet.  Meantime,  his  dis- 
ciples press  him  to  take  of  the  food  which  they  had 
brought.  Our  Lord  declines,  saying  that  he  had  a  meat 
to  eat  of  which  they  knew  not.  Perceiving  that  he  ap- 
peared vigorous  and  refreshed,  they  instantly  inferred  that, 
during  their  absence,  some  one  had  brought  him  food, 
of  which  he  had  partaken.  But  our  Lord  interprets  his 
own  words.  No  man  had  brought  him  bread.  No  one 
had  given  him  to  drink.  "  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of 
Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  His  work."  He  had 
been  engaged,  during  their  absence,  in  doing  good  to  a 
benighted  human  soul.  That  occupation  brought  its  own 
reward.  He  was  thoroughly  refreshed  and  invigorated, 
body  and  soul.  He  had  been  reaping,  and  had  received 
his  wages.  He  had  been  working  in  the  spiritual  har- 
vest, and  he  was  full  of  joy.  He  had  gathered  fruit, 
which  was  more  than  food  for  the  body — even  for  the 
sustentation  of  spiritual  life  in  himself  and  in  another. 

Nor  does  such  a  satisfaction  belong  to  himself  only. 
He  has  no  monopoly  of  this  peculiar  delight.  Imme- 
diately our  Lord  announces  a  law  on  this  subject  which 
concerns  all  his  disciples,  from  that  moment  to  the  end 
of  the  world.  The  harvest  is  already  ripe,  waiting  for  the 
sickle.  Wherever  there  is  a  man  ready  to  do  good,  op- 
portunities for  doing  good  are  ready  to  his  hand.  Who- 
soever "  reapeth  receiveth  wages  and  gathereth  fruit  unto 


The  Zest  of  Life.  185 

life  eternal,  that  both  he  that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth 
may  rejoice  together."  We  have,  then,  in  this  incident, 
the  Christian  teaching  concerning  that  which  constitutes 
the  only  true  zest  of  human  life. 

There  are  multitudes  whose  whole  life  passes  without 
any  zest  at  all.  They  endure  life  ;  but  never  enjoy  it.  They 
breathe,  they  eat,  they  sleep,  they  move,  and  all  because 
they  must ;  but  life  has  in  it  for  them  no  real  satisfaction. 
Nor  do  we  include  in  this  class  those  only  who  drudge 
along  in  abject  depression ;  for  those  who  are  under  the 
necessity  of  daily  work  undoubtedly  have  an  advantage 
over  those  in  the  opposite  extreme  of  society,  who,  releas- 
ed from  such  a  necessity,  are  often  a  prey  to  listlessness, 
vacancy,  and  disgust.  These  are  they  who  have  many 
excitements,  by  which  they  are  occupied  and  stimulated 
from  day  to  day.  But  excitement  is  a  very  different  thing 
from  zest,  though  it  is  often  confounded  with  it.  One 
cannot  live  on  stimulants.  If  one  attempts  it,  he  discov- 
ers that  they  must  be  diversified  and  increased  j  and  after 
all,  re-action  is  sure  to  ensue  when  the  stimulant  loses  its 
own  power,  and  the  exhausted  subject  falls  flat  into  indif- 
ference and  vacancy.  Life  has  lost  its  savor,  like  insipid 
and  worthless  salt.  There  are  multitudes,  in  all  classes 
and  conditions,  with  whom  life  has  no  sapidity. 

Nor  can  we  doubt  that  many,  in  a  general  way,  pur- 
pose to  lead  a  life  of  religion,  who  utterly  fail  of  all  cor- 
rect notions  as  to  what  religion  is,  and  what  it  confers. 
Their  conceptions  of  a  religious  life  are  bounded  by  the 
ideas  of  necessity  and  policy  and  obligation  and  self- 
interest.  Their  highest  notion  concerning  it  is,  that  it 
will  afford  them  a  bridge  over  the  river  of  death,  and  an 


1 86  Thanksgiving. 

acquittal  and  security  in  the  eternal  judgment.  So  far  as 
its  influence  in  the  present  life  is  concerned,  they  regard 
it  as  a  power  of  restraint,  imposing  self-denial,  and  the 
stern  performance  of  duty,  often  unwelcome  and  painful. 
Was  not  our  Great  Exemplar  a  "man  of  sorrows"? 
Was  not  He,  our  Great  Captain  and  leader  in  the  via 
dolorosa,  in  which  all  his  followers  must  walk  down  to 
the  grave,  made  perfect  through  suffering  ? 

All  this  may  be  true  j  but  it  is  not  all  the  truth.  For 
Christ  tells  his  disciples  that  there  is  an  immediate  re- 
ward in  his  service  \  that  we  need  not  think  only  of 
what  is  to  occur  in  the  harvest  at  the  end  of  the  world, 
for  there  is  a  compensation  now  present :  he  that  reapeth 
receiveth  wages — receiveth  them  even  while  he  worketh, 
the  sower  and  the  reaper  rejoicing  together ;  and  every 
one  who  is  now  engaged  in  doing  the  will  of  God,  as 
Christ  himself  illustrated  it  at  the  well  of  Sychar,  shall 
enjoy  the  true  zest  of  life,  its  rich  and  sparkling  flavor,  its 
tonic,  nutritious,  and  invigorating  qualities,  day  by  day.  If 
discipline  is  severe,  if  trials  are  manifold,  if  sufferings 
abound,  all  the  more  important,  all  the  more  valuable,  is 
that  habit  which  constitutes  the  joyous  heartiness  of  life, 
whether  we  do  or  endure  the  will  of  God.  That  is  a  sad 
life,  though  it  passes  under  the  name  of  religion,  which 
has  in  it  no  real  zest.  That  is  a  pitiable  family  in  which 
affairs  are  so  conducted  that  life,  however  varied,  has 
no  hearty  enjoyment.  That  is  a  dead  church,  barren 
and  unfruitful  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  whose  members 
do  not  make  it  their  meat  and  drink,  instead  of  their 
constraint  and  compulsion,  to  be  diligent  in  the  whitened 
harvests  of  Christian  usefulness. 


The  Zest  of  Life.  187 

What,  now,  is  the  true  and  only  true  zest  of  life? 
that  which  never  is  exhausted,  never  wears  away,  never 
loses  its  potency,  never  re-acts,  and  never  ends ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  always  continues,  extends,  deepens,  and 
grows  to  the  very  last  of  our  days  on  earth  ?  In  other 
words,  how  is  it  that  we  ourselves  may  all  enter  into 
sympathy  with  the  Son  of  God,  when  he  described  those 
spiritual  refreshments  which  to  him  were  more  than 
meat  and  drink,  and  which,  as  he  assures  us,  are  within 
the  reach  of  all  his  disciples  ? 

A  general  answer,  obviously,  is  ready  to  our  hand. 
Our  satisfaction  must  be  found  in  the  same  quarter  with 
that  which  Christ  himself  describes  as  his  own — "  My 
meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish 
His  work."  Analysing  this  prescription,  we  find  for  its 
ingredients  these  several  elements  :  a  reference  to  the 
will  of  God  in  all  things,  as  the  supreme  motive  and  law 
of  life,  and  constant  activity,  on  our  part,  in  performing 
what  is  assigned  as  our  proper  work  in  the  world ;  or,  to 
express  both  ideas  in  a  more  laconic  form,  ceaseless  occu- 
pation of  our  faculties  in  the  service  of  God. 

The  first  thing  essential  to  this  vigorous  and  happy 
life  is,  that  God  should  be  recognized  in  all  that  we  do. 
There  is  a  vast  deal  of  activity  in  the  world,  and  not  a 
little  of  pleasure  and  satisfaction  in  the  free  use  and  exer- 
cise of  our  faculties  in  the  varied  pursuits  of  life.  But  all 
this  pleasurable  activity  is  insufficient  and  defective  if  it 
has  no  recognition  of  God,  and  our  dutiful  service  to 
Him.  Take  out  of  life  the  ideas  of  God's  existence,  His 
distribution  of  talent,  His  appointment  of  place  and  duty, 
and  all  regard  to  His  will  and  approbation,  as  the  end 


1 8  8  Thanksgiving. 

and  reward  of  our  existence,  and  you  rob  life  instantly  of 
its  most  dignified  and  pleasurable  ingredients,  reducing 
it  to  a  blank,  dreary,  and  infidel  fatalism.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  first  thing  which  results  from  a  direct  recogni- 
tion of  the  will  of  God  is,  that  we  may  dispense  at  once, 
and  throw  out  of  our  calculation,  all  regard  to  condition 
and  possessions  and  kinds  of  occupation,  of  which  the 
most  is  ordinarily  made  in  human  estimate,  infusing  into 
all  alike  this  common  charm,  that  God  assigns  our  work, 
and  the  means  of  doing  it.  Here  is  a  zest  for  the  man 
of  one  talent,  as  well  as  for  him  with  ten  ;  for  one  who  toils 
in  poverty,  and  for  him  who  has  largest  estates  ;  for  him 
who  works  in  the  field,  the  shop,  the  mine  j  and  for  him 
who  makes  laws,  who  forges  thoughts,  who  sways  senates, 
and  rules  over  nations.  The  busy  housewife  in  the  low- 
liest cabin,  and  the  proudest  queen  in  all  the  palaces  of 
the  world,  in  this  regard  are  on  a  level.  Their  condition 
is  appointed  of  God,  and  all  alike  are  sanctified  and 
dignified  by  the  idea  of  duty.  This,  indeed,  gives  a 
zest  to  life,  and  constitutes  its  most  spicy  and  tonic 
quality — that  it  is  pervaded  by  a  sense  of  obligation 
and  obedience  to  Almighty  God,  whose  approbation  is 
the  highest  and  largest  good.  A  scholar,  a  king,  can 
reach  nothing  better  •  the  cripple  cobbler  may  have  as 
much. 

Whoever  I  am,  wherever  my  lot, 

Whatever  I  happen  to  be, 
Contentment  and  duty  shall  hallow  the  spot 

That  Providence  orders  for  me ; 
No  covetous  straining  and  striving  to  gain 

One  feverish  step  in  advance  j 


The  Zest  of  Life.  1 89 

I  know  my  own  place,  and  you  tempt  me  in  vain 
To  hazard  a  change  or  a  chance. 

I  care  for  no  riches  that  are  not  my  right, 

No  honor  that  is  not  my  due ; 
But  stand  in  my  station,  by  day  or  by  night, 

The  will  of  my  master  to  do. 
He  lent  me  my  lot,  be  it  humble  or  high, 

And  set  me  my  business  here, 
And  whether  I  live  in  his  service  or  die, 

My  heart  shall  be  found  in  my  sphere. 

The  good  that  it  pleases  my  God  to  bestow, 

I  gratefully  gather  and  prize  ; 
The  evil — it  can  be  no  evil,  I  know, 

But  only  a  good  in  disguise. 
And  whether  my  station  be  lowly  or  great, 

No  duty  can  ever  be  mean. 
The  factory-cripple  is  fixed  in  his  fate, 

As  well  as  a  king  or  a  queen. 

For  Duty's  bright  livery  glorifies  all 

With  brotherhood  equal  and  free — 
Obeying,  as  children,  the  heavenly  call 

That  places  us  where  we  should  be. 
Away,  then,  with  "  helpings  "  that  humble  and  harm, 

Though  "  bettering  "  trips  from  your  tongue  ; 
Away  !  for  your  folly  would  scatter  the  charm 

That  round  my  frcud  poverty  hung. 

I  will  not,  I  dare  not,  I  cannot !    I  stand 

Where  God  has  ordained  me  to  be — 
An  honest  mechanic — a  lord  in  the  land  : 

He  fitted  my  calling  for  me. 
Whatever  my  state,  be  it  weak,  be  it  strong, 

With  honor,  or  sweat  on  my  face, 
This,  this  is  my  glory,  my  strength,  and  my  song, 

I  stand,  like  a  star,  in  my  place. 


190  Thanksgiving. 

Starting  with  this  idea,  duty  as  related  to  the  will  of 
God,  we  have  next  to  combine  with  it  the  habit  of  con- 
stant activity  in  its  performance,  and  our  inquiry  is 
answered  ;  the  true  zest  of  life  is  discovered.  Sure 
we  must  be  to  start  from  this  point,  of  obedient  regard 
to  the  will  of  God  ;  for  so  certain  as  we  take  it  for  the 
purpose  of  life  to  do  our  own  will,  to  please  ourselves  in 
the  way  of  a  selfish  greed  and  ambition,  we  shall  come 
into  the  experience  of  all  those  rivalries  and  disappoint- 
ments and  frictions  and  vexations,  which  are  the  inevi- 
table consequences  of  a  misdirected  and  godless  life. 
The  will  of  Him  that  sent  us  into  the  world,  and  appoint- 
ed our  birth,  condition,  occupation,  being  our  point 
of  departure,  now  let  every  faculty  be  brought  into 
exercise,  diligently  and  constantly,  and  the  secret  of  all 
Christian  refreshment  is  disclosed.  Not  enough  to 
know  God's  will ;  we  must  do  it.  "  My  meat,"  said 
Christ,  "  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me."  To 
have  a  work,  and  to  be  diligent  in  finishing  it,  in  God's 
name — this  is  the  charm  of  life.  Doing  and  working  are 
here  in  antithesis  to  idleness  and  apathy.  He  who  is  the 
most  active,  from  the  best  motives,  is  the  happiest  of  his 
species.  God  himself  is  full  of  blessedness,  because  he 
is  full  of  activity.  A  divinity  asleep  above  the  clouds  is 
a  heathen  conception  ;  ours  is  the  living  God.  With 
Him  is  no  night  and  no  sleep,  but  all  is  ceaseless  and 
infinite  activity.  Jesus  Christ  was  always  intent  on  doing 
good;  and  he  who  finds  the  most  occupation  for  all 
his  time  and  all  his  faculties,  and  this  from  a  sense  of 
duty,  is  the  most  blessed  of  men.  Some  who  are  inces- 
santly  employed,   often   to  the   verge   of  physical   and 


The  Zest  of  Life.  191 

mental  fatigue,  imagine  what  pleasure  there  would  be  in 
leisure  and  rest.  But  they  know  not  what  they  say. 
They  are  cheated  by  a  mirage.  A  thousand-fold  happier 
is  he  who  is  occupied,  even  to  this  degree,  than  another 
who  drawls  through  life  with  so  much  time  at  his  dis- 
posal that  he  knows  not  what  to  do  with  it ;  who  sleeps 
away  as  much  as  he  can,  and  who,  when  he  wakes,  yawns, 
and  wonders  as  to  the  way  in  which  he  shall  dispose  of 
the  remainder.  What  a  zest  there  is  in  sleep,  to  a 
man  who  comes  to  it  wearied  in  the  discharge  of  duty, 
and  with  the  consciousness  that  it  belongs  to  him.  What 
a  zest  there  is  in  a  day  of  recreation, — a  season  of  relax- 
ation— when  it  comes  in  the  evident  course  of  duty,  as  a 
gift  and  appointment  of  the  best  of  Masters,  and  not  as 
a  largess  to  be  squandered  in  our  own  indulgence. 
What  a  flavor  is  imparted  to  the  whole  of  life,  to  be 
occupied  all  the  time,  and  this  because  we  are  serving 
our  God  and  master.  What  a  tonic  pleasure  there  is, 
when  one  awakes  in  the  morning,  to  know  what  his  work 
is — that  there  is  enough  of  it,  and  that  he  has  a  heart  to 
do  it.  There  is  nothing  in  abundant  leisure,  in  elegant 
ease,  in  listless  vacancy,  ever  to  be  compared  with  this 
enjoyment  of  constant  occupation  in  doing  the  will  of 
Him  who  appoints  our  condition  and  our  work. 

Far  as  we  have  advanced  in  our  subject,  we  have  not  yet 
touched  its  core.  The  occupations  of  our  Lord  were  of  a 
peculiar  sort.  They  all  had  reference  to  what  is  distinc- 
tively benevolent — of  good  to  the  bodies  and  souls  of  men. 
His  divine  pleasure  was  the  reflection  of  the  happiness 
he  conferred  on  others.  While  it  is  true  that  all  the  oc- 
cupations which  Providence  appoints  are  in  a  real  sense 


192  Thanksgiving. 

to  be  regarded  as  religious,  even  those  which  in  our  com- 
mon language  we  call  secular,  it  is  certainly  true  that  he 
who  is  the  most  busy  in  devising  and  executing  what  is 
for  the  good  of  others,  comes  nearest  to  the  holy  heart 
and  joy  of  Christ.  We  can  conceive  of  one  propelled  in 
ceaseless  activity  to  that  degree  that  he  escapes  all  of 
listlessness  and  inanition,  and  the  sad  weariness  of  no- 
thing to  do,  while  there  is  about  his  whole  manner  too 
much  of  mere  obligation  in  the  discharge  of  duty.  He 
needs  a  larger  infusion  of  Christian  benevolence.  He 
lacks  the  very  spirit  which  made  Jesus  Christ  so  alert 
and  so  happy  in  his  endeavors  to  instruct  and  bless. 
The  whole  mechanism,  though  it  is  at  work,  needs  a  cer- 
tain lubrication.  It  needs  the  oil  of  joy  and  gladness. 
In  a  word,  the  zest  of  life  is  activity,  with  a  kindly  spirit 
and  intent.  It  is  charity  out  of  a  pure  heart.  He  who 
is  pervaded  with  the  love  which  Christ  illustrated  and 
Christ  enjoins,  and  is  active  therein,  has  reached  far 
nearer  the  centre  of  life,  than  he  who  is  only  active  in 
obedience  to  Providence.  That  we  hit  the  truth  on  this 
subject,  appears  from  the  fact  that  Christ  refers  his  dis- 
ciples to  the  harvest  which  was  then  inviting  their  toil. 
He  speaks  of  a  peculiar  kind  of  sowing  and  of  reaping, 
and  a  peculiar  kind  of  wages.  What  a  serene  joy  was 
in  the  soul  of  Christ  when  he  saw  those  Samaritans  be- 
lieving in  him,  to  their  own  salvation.  We  endeavor  to 
conceive  the  joy  of  the  widow  of  Nain,  when  receiving 
her  dead  son  alive  again  by  the  miracle  of  our  Lord  ;  we 
imagine  the  gladness  there  was  in  the  homes  where  the 
sick  were  healed,  the  cripple,  the  blind,  the  deaf,  restored 
to  the  use  of  their  faculties  ;  but  what  was  all  this  com- 


The  Zest  of  Life.  193 

pared  to  the  deep  and  ineffable  delight  in  the  heart  of 
Christ  because  he  had  wrought  so  great  relief.  This  is 
the  species  of  reward  to  which  he  invites  his  disciples 
by  his  word  and  his  example.  The  very  activity  which 
Christ  employed  for  the  good  of  the  citizens  of  Sychar, 
we  are  to  repeat,  as  the  means  of  sustaining  and  invigo- 
rating our  own  spiritual  life.  What  pleasure  is  felt  by 
the  reaper,  strong  and  robust,  in  a  harvest-field,  swinging 
his  sickle  with  vigorous  stroke ;  what  a  sensation  of  joy- 
ous health  is  his  ;  the  currents  of  life  run  smoothly  and 
briskly  through  all  his  veins,  and  he  needs  no  physician 
to  assure  him  that  he  is  well ;  he  knows  it  j  he  feels  it ; 
and  if  we  were  half  as  active  and  diligent  in  doing  good, 
our  refreshments  and  rewards  would  be  so  palpable  that 
our  faces  would  shine  with  religious  delight.  If  there 
was  a  better  comprehension  and  practise  of  this  exercise 
and  activity  in  Christian  work,  no  one  would  need  a 
magnifying  glass  to  make  his  religion  visible.  Instead 
of  directing  a  telescopic  sight  at  a  religious  feeling  the 
moment  it  shows  its  head,  and  running  after  it  till  it  is 
scared  away  and  hides  itself  in  its  burrow,  we  should 
be  conscious,  through  and  through,  of  the  life  by  which 
we  are  made  blessed.  All  this  irrespective  of  the  results 
of  our  Christian  working.  We  may  be  defeated  in  our 
most  kindly  intentions  :  not  all  of  the  Samaritans  be- 
lieved on  Christ.  We  may  not  be  rewarded  in  all  in- 
stances with  seeing  the  fruit  of  our  labors  for  others ; 
but  we  are  sure  of  fruit  for  the  sustaining  of  our  own 
life,  as  wheat  is  for  the  nourishment  of  the  body.  He 
that  reapeth  receiveth  wages.  Here  is  a  present  compen- 
sation. Here  is  an  immediate  delight.  Here  is  the 
9 


1 94  Thanksgiving. 

zest  of  life  :  constant  exercise  of  Christian  benevolence. 
There  is  no  poverty  in  the  soul  that  loves;  every  thought, 
every  wish,  every  act,  which  looks  to  the  good  of  others, 
comes  back  to  the  heart  from  which  it  issued,  laden  with 
a  double  blessing. 

While  this  is  so — while  payment  and  work  are  in- 
separable— there  is  another  reward  which  is  for  the 
future.  We  are  instructed  as  to  the  satisfaction  which 
Christ  enjoyed  in  his  earthly  work ;  shall  we  not  think 
of  the  peculiar  delight  which  will  be  his  when  he 
looks  upon  the  fruit  of  his  toil,  gathered  into  the  garner, 
at  the  end  of  the  world  ?  We  read  that  he  will  see  of 
the  travail  of  his  soul  and  will  be  satisfied.  When  all 
who  have  believed  on  him,  to  the  saving  of  their  souls, 
shall  come  home  at  the  last,  filling  the  heavens  with  their 
glorified  forms,  and  overflowing  with  gratitude  and  joy, 
all  their  gladness  compounded  together  will  not  equal 
the  joy  of  Christ,  the  infinite  Fountain  of  all  good,  in  the 
conscious  blessedness  of  having  conferred  such  bound- 
less happiness.  Shall  we  forget  that  he  has  promised  to 
every  faithful  servant  of  his,  that  he  shall  be  a  partaker 
of  the  same  satisfaction  ?  The  words  are  written  which 
will  be  uttered  to  all  who  come  home  bearing  their 
sheaves  with  them  on  that  great  day  of  disclosure  and 
result :  "  Well  done,  good   and  faithful  servant ;    enter 

thou  into    THE  JOY  OF  THY  LORD  !  " 

Mr.  Coleridge  has  said  : 

"  Would  I  frame  to  myself  the  most  inspiriting  repre- 
sentation of  future  bliss  which  my  mind  is  capable  of 
comprehending,  it  would  be  embodied  to  me  in  the  idea 
of  Bell  receiving,  at  some  distant  period,  the  appropriate 


The  Zest  of  Life.  195 

reward  of  his  earthly  labors ;  when  thousands  and  ten 
thousands  of  glorified  spirits,  whose  reason  and  con- 
science had  through  his  efforts  been  unfolded,  shall  sing 
the  song  of  their  own  redemption,  and,  pouring  forth 
praise  to  God  and  to  their  Saviour,  shall  repeat  his  *  new 
name '  in  heaven,  give  thanks  for  his  earthly  virtues,  as 
the  chosen  instruments  of  divine  mercy  to  themselves, 
and,  not  seldom  perhaps,  turn  their  eyes  towards  him,  as 
from  the  sun  to  its  image  in  the  fountain,  with  secondary 
gratitude  and  the  permitted  utterance  of  a  human  love." 

To  save  us  from  those  temptations  to  despondency 
which  spring  from  the  thought  that  they  only  are  to  be 
honored  and  rewarded,  on  earth  and  in  heaven,  who  ac- 
complish signal  services,  our  Lord  has  more  than  once 
-  instructed  us  that  he  regards  dispositions  rather  than 
quantities ;  that  the  gift  of  a  cup  of  cold  water,  in  the 
spirit  of  Christian  kindness,  shall  not  be  unnoticed  and 
unrewarded  \  and  that  the  true  affinities  of  our  nature  are 
to  be  decided  by  those  acts  which  are  within  the  reach 
and  capacity  of  all — visiting  the  sick,  caring  for  the  stran- 
ger, ministering  to  the  hungry,  the  thirsty,  and  the  naked. 


POLITICS  AND  THE  PULPIT. 


I  exhort  therefore,  that,  first  of  all,  supplications,  prayers,  inter- 
cessions, and  giving  of  thanks,  be  made  for  all  men ;  for  kings,  and 
for  all  that  are  in  authority ;  that  we  may  lead  a  quiet  and  peaceable 
life  in  all  godliness  and  honesty. 

i  Tim.  2:1,2. 


X. 

POLITICS    AND    THE    PULPIT. 

Public  attention  has  been  frequently  directed  to  what 
is  generally  understood  by  " preaching  politics."  Confused 
and  inconsistent  notions  concerning  this  subject  are  enter- 
tained by  many.  Some  are  very  jealous  of  any  allusions 
from  the  pulpit  to  matters  affecting  the  State.  Others  insist 
that  the  pulpit  shall  be  out-spoken  and  explicit  in  the  ad- 
vocacy of  their  own  favorite  policy.  So  long  as  the  minis- 
try is  a  power  in  the  world,  its  influence  will  be  deprecated 
or  invoked  in  aid  of  all  objects  where  power  is  coveted. 
Few  men  have  objections  to  the  preaching  of  politics,  so 
long  as  it  is  their  own  politics  which  are  preached. 

A  clergyman  preaches  a  discourse  which  he  thinks  is 
demanded  by  the  perils  of  the  country.  The  doctrine  he 
advocates  is  distasteful  to  certain  conductors  of  the  polit- 
ical press,  who  forthwith  censure  him  for  transcending 
his  proper  vocation.  He  is  accused  of  meddling  with 
subjects  which  do  not  belong  to  his  profession.  He  is 
distinctly  informed  that  if  he  ventures  to  intrude  into  such 
an  arena,  his  high  and  holy  calling  will  be  disgraced,  and 
the  white  robes  of  his  office  will  be  sullied  by  the  missiles 
with  which  he  will  certainly  be  pelted  by  excited  men. 


200  Thanksgiving. 

Ere  long  the  pulpit  speaks  again,  from  another  quarter 
and  in  another  tone.  It  promulgates  doctrines  now 
which  happen  to  be  agreeable  to  the  very  men  who  be- 
fore censured  the  clergy  for  presuming  to  speak  at  all  on 
such  subjects,  but  who  now  congratulate  themselves,  the 
country,  and  religion  itself,  for  such  wise,  wholesome,  and 
timely  counsels.  'Now  the  ministry  is  doing  its  proper 
work.  It  does  not  stand  aloof  from  those  practical  con- 
cerns which  affect  the  well-being  of  society,  but,  as  God's 
most  beneficent  agent,  it  is  shedding  the  light  and  author- 
ity of  heaven  on  the  interests  of  time.' 

Herein  is  a  manifest  inconsistency.  Silence  and 
speech  at  the  same  time,  and  in  regard  to  the  same  sub- 
ject, cannot  both  be  right.  That  is  no  pendulum  which 
swings  only  on  one  side.  Surely  there  must  be  some 
fixed  principles  pertaining  to  this  subject  which  ought  to 
be  ascertained,  otherwise  the  Christian  pulpit  is  destitute 
of  all  dignity,  exposed  by  turns  to  flattery  or  contempt. 

As  to  the  chief  and  distinctive  object  of  the  Christian 
ministry,  there  can  be  no  diversity  of  opinion.  It  is  to 
announce  these  truths  which  affect  man  in  his  highest 
relations — to  God  and  immortality.  Unlike  other  teach- 
ers who,  beginning  with  the  lower  ascend  to  the  higher, 
the  Christian  ministry  are  appointed  to  proclaim  those 
truths  which  relate  to  the  supreme  interests  of  our  race. 
In  the  act  of  doing  this,  irrespective  of  all  earthly  distinc- 
tions, ignoring  all  those  strata  and  conditions  of  society 
which  the  Apostle  intends  by  "  knowing  man  after  the 
flesh,"  the  teachers  of  religion  are  by  an  insensible  and 
indirect  process  contributing  most  to  that  secular  pros- 
perity  which   others   make    their  direct   and   exclusive 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  201 

pursuit.  Elevating  man  in  the  scale  of  character,  by 
introducing  him  to  an  immediate  fellowship  with  his 
Maker,  you  are  sure  to  confer  importance  on  all  which 
concerns  his  relations  to  his  fellow-men  and  this  present 
life.  We  need  not  expand  this  thought,  that  intelligence, 
freedom,  law,  order,  enterprise,  commerce,  arts,  industry, 
wealth,  follow  in  the  train  of  the  Christian  religion.  Any 
tyro  in  history  and  geography  will  admit  as  much.  He 
who  preaches  repentance  towards  God  and  faith  towards 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  employing  himself  with  those 
distinctive  and  germinant  truths  which  are  his  peculiar 
themes,  is  contributing  more  than  he  knows  to  the  welfare 
of  states  and  the  true  prosperity  of  nations.  In  this 
sense,  political  reforms  are  embosomed  in  the  doctrine 
of  Justification  by  Faith,  and  national  progress  is  insured 
by  Christian  devotion. 

True  religion  should  pervade  the  whole  of  man's 
being.  The  Sabbath,  the  closet,  the  church,  are  not  its 
exclusive  sphere  ;  his  business  and  his  politics  belong  to 
it  as  well.  By  politics  we  understand  his  relations  to  the 
State.  It  cannot  be  admitted  that  these  and  other  secular 
interests,  as  they  are  called,  are  too  common  and  unclean 
for  contact  with  religion,  since  the  broad  requirement  of 
the  Scripture  is  that  "  whether  we  eat  or  drink,  or  what- 
ever we  do,  we  should  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God : "  and 
if  political  duties  and  relations  are  not  to  be  pervaded  by 
the  spirit  of  religion,  then  are  we  involved  in  the  practical 
solecism,  that  there  is  a  large  part  of  our  existence  which 
is  necessarily  irreligious  j  and  still  farther,  the  necessity  is 
entailed  of  a  sufficient  number  being  detached,  even  in 
the  millennium,  to  rig  and  work  the  ship  of  State,  an  un- 
9* 


202  Thanksgiving. 

godly  crew,  beyond  the  suspicion  of  all  sanctity  and  piety. 
This  common  distinction  between  the  secular  and  the 
religious  is  a  convenience  of  speech  for  certain  purposes, 
but  it  conveys  a  falsity ;  since  in  the  better  generalization 
of  the  New  Testament  religion  covers  the  whole  extent 
of  our  being,  the  countless  variety  of  our  interests  and 
relations  ;  just  as  the  sea  nils  all  the  bays  and  inlets  and 
creeks  with  its  in-flowing  waters. 

From  these  general  principles,  in  this  form,  there  can 
be  no  dissent.  The  difficulty  is  in  the  application  of  the 
latter  principle  on  the  part  of  the  ministry,  in  an  official 
capacity,  to  specific  cases. 

Perhaps  it  will  help  us  in  reaching  the  truth  on  this 
subject,  if  we  refresh  our  memories  with  a  few  historical 
facts.  The  time  was,  in  our  ancestral  land,  when,  Church 
and  State  being  combined  in  one  organism,  the  clergy 
with  few  exceptions  were  little  more  than  the  tools  of  the 
throne.  "  Tuning  the  pulpit "  was  a  very  significant  ex- 
pression, as  used  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  to  describe  the 
subserviency  of  courtly  chaplains  in  advocating  the  royal 
will.  We  are  conscious  of  pitiful  regret  for  the  times  and 
the  men,  when  it  was  not  uncommon,  if  a  preacher  expa- 
tiated with  any  thing  of  freedom,  for  a  gruff  Tudor-voice 
from  the  royal  pew  to  bid  him  return  from  his  "  ungodly 
digression  and  keep  himself  to  his  text." 

Life  cannot  always  be  cramped  and  fettered,  and  at 
length  there  arose  an  order  of  men  who  claimed  the  right 
to  declare  the  truth  of  God  in  utmost  freedom,  account- 
able only  to  its  divine  Author.*     The  assertion  of  religious 

*  What  Jeremy  Taylor  has  called  the  "  liberty  of  prophesying" 
in  his  famous  &eo\oyia  €kA€ktik^. 


ff^    of  ?m     '*# 

((UNIVEEStf 

Politics  and  the  Pulpit.        ^  /££ 


liberty  necessarily  prepared  the  way  for  persona 
political  liberty,  and  Hume  himself,  tory  and  sceptic  as 
he  was,  was  compelled  to  admit  that  English  Puritanism 
was  the  root  and  life  of  all  true  English  freedom. 

The  colonization  of  New  England  was  a  religious 
movement ;  and  to  subtract  from  it  the  direct  and  posi- 
tive influence  of  church  and  ministry,  would  be  like 
taking  out  the  bones  and  soul  from  the  human  body. 
Those  colonists  have  been  often  censured  and  ridiculed 
for  the  ecclesiastical  requirements  which  they  exacted  in 
political  relations  and  magistracies.  The  truth  is,  that 
at  that  time  every  nation  in  Christendom  required  relig- 
ious conformities  of  those  who  officiated  in  affairs  of 
State.  That  which  was  peculiar  and  novel  on  the  part 
of  the  Puritan  colonists  was,  that  their  ideas  of  the  church 
and  of  religion  went  beyond  the  outward  form,  to  a  heart- 
renovation — a  new  test  which  repelled  and  disgusted  the 
adventurers  who  had  no  sympathy  with  spiritual  religion. 

So  the  foundations  of  our  national  life  were  laid. 
There  are  two  distinct  periods  in  our  national  history 
when  the  agency  of  the  clergy  was  very  conspicuous,  the 
object  of  reprehension  or  encomium  by  different  parties. 
The  first  of  these  was  at  and  during  the  Revolutionary 
war,  and  the  formation  of  a  new  government,  independent 
of  Great  Britain.  The  second  was  from  the  change  of 
politics  under  President  Jefferson,  culminating  in  the  war 
of  1812,  and  extending  down,  with  a  gradual  diminution 
of  prejudice  and  violence,  to  a  time  within  the  memory 
of  most  of  our  readers.  Consulting  these  several  peri- 
ods, we  shall  find  much  to  admire,  and  much  to  censure ; 
many  mistakes,  many  fidelities  and  proofs  of  wisdom. 


204  Thanksgiving. 

When  troubles  arose  between  the  American  Colonies 
and  the  British  Government,  the  whole  structure  of  so- 
ciety was  shaken,  and  men  of  all  professions  and  pursuits 
were  compelled  to  avow  their  sentiments  and  choose 
their  position.  At  this  distance  of  time  it  is  common  to 
suppose  that  the  action  of  the  American  people  was 
unanimous  in  advocating  independence  from  the  British 
throne.  This  was  far  from  being  true.  The  people  were 
divided  among  themselves.  The  crown  officers,  and 
many  of  the  leading  and  opulent  citizens,  were  opposed 
to  separation  from  Great  Britain.  The  result  was  invec- 
tive, reproach,  and  violence — distracted  counties,  towns, 
and  parishes.  The  idea  of  multitudes  was  to  resist  what 
they  held  to  be  unjust  and  oppressive  on  the  part  of  the 
British  Crown ;  to  demand  the  sanctity  of  charters — the 
right  of  representation  \  but  not  to  sever  themselves  as 
integral  parts  of  the  British  realm.  In  this  assertion  of 
colonial  right  and  justice,  the  clergy  with  wonderful 
unanimity  sympathized  ;  but  God  intended  more  than 
they  at  first  foresaw.  The  rock  once  loosened  from  its 
bed  was  destined  to  roll  on  notwithstanding  all  obstruc- 
tions. The  idea  of  national  independence  gained  famil- 
iarity and  force  ;  and  at  length  the  struggle  began.  There 
was  a  necessity  that  the  clergy,  in  common  with  all  other 
citizens,  should  adopt  one  side  or  the  other.  Some  for  a 
while  hesitated  to  commit  themselves  to  what  appeared 
to  be  irreligious  rebellion.  Their  scruples  were  founded 
on  religious  grounds.  The  Episcopal  Church,  with  some 
notable  exceptions,  was  particularly  conspicuous  in  this 
position ;  indeed,  some  of  the  early  pamphlets  relating 
to  the  Revolution  inform  us  that  the  hostilitv  to  Great 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  205 

Britain  cherished  by  the  Congregational  and  Presbyte- 
rian ministers,  was  imputed  to  a  sectarian  origin,  as  being 
moved  by  the  fact  that  the  Episcopal  Church  was  sus- 
tained and  established  by  the  parent-country.  The  pre- 
cise state  of  many  among  the  American  people,  in  the 
incipient  stages  of  the  Revolution,  will  better  appear 
from  a  few  examples. 

Dr.  Jonathan  Mayhew,  the  pastor  of  the  West  Church 
in  Boston,  published  a  thanksgiving  sermon  in  May, 
1766,  on  the  occasion  of  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act, 
from  the  text :  "  Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  from  the 
snare  of  the  fowlers,  the  snare  is  broken  and  we  are 
escaped."  This  discourse,  full  of  patriotism,  is  pervaded 
with  the  idea  that  justice  had  been  done,  the  wrong  re- 
dressed, and  the  difficulty  adjusted.  It  was  dedicated  to 
William  Pitt.  On  the  2 2d  of  June,  1775,  Dr.  William 
Smith,  Provost  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania, 
preached  a  sermon  in  Christ  Church,  Philadelphia,  in 
which  he  "  pants  for  the  return  of  those  halcyon  days  of 
harmony  during  which  the  two  countries  flourished  to- 
gether as  the  glory  and  wonder  of  the  world  " — and  while 
demanding  that  Britain  should  do  justly  with  her  colo- 
nies, he  affirms  that  the  idea  of  independence  from  the 
parent-country  is  "  utterly  foreign  to  their  thoughts,  and 
that  our  rightful  sovereign  has  nowhere  more  loyal  sub- 
jects, or  more  zealously  attached  to  those  principles  of 
government  under  which  he  inherited  his  throne."  An- 
other instance  yet  more  to  the  point:  Dr.  Duche',  of 
Philadelphia,  is  known  as  the  divine  who  opened  the 
Continental  Congress,  in  1774,  with  prayer.  In  1776  he 
was  appointed  Chaplain  to  the  Congress,  but  at  an  early 


2o6  Thanksgiving. 

stage  of  the  war  he  manifested  a  decided  opposition  to 
independence,  and  in  a  long  letter  to  General  Washington 
endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  the  cause  to  which  he 
was  pledged.  Dr.  Zubly,  of  Savannah,  in  1775  a  mem- 
ber of  the  first  Provincial  Congress  of  Georgia,  preached 
a  sermon  in  that  year  at  the  opening  of  that  body,  im- 
pregnated with  the  spirit  of  patriotism  and  liberty,  but 
strongly  discountenancing  the  independence  of  the  colo- 
nies. These  examples  will  suffice  to  show  how  great  was 
the  hesitation  on  the  part  of  many,  and  this  on  ethical 
and  religious  grounds,  to  a  severance  of  the  body  politic. 
As  Christian  men  they  dreaded  schisms  in  Church  and 
State.  The  discourses  from  which  we  have  drawn  our 
illustrations  were  delivered  in  the  beginning  of  the  war, 
when  ethics  were  not  yet  classified  and  adjusted  by  facts. 
With  a  very  few  and  notable  exceptions — such  as  the 
witty  and  eccentric  Dr.  Byles  of  Boston,  whose  connec- 
tion with  his  congregation  was  dissolved  in  1776  because 
of  his  toryism — who  was  denounced  in  town-meeting  as 
an  enemy  to  his  country,  and  afterwards  tried  before  a 
special  court  on  the  charge  of  praying  for  the  King,  re- 
ceiving visits  from  British  officers,  and  remaining  in  the 
town  during  the  siege — who,  in  his  own  words,  was 
"guarded,  re-guarded,  and  disregarded  " # — the  vast  body 

*  On  one  occasion,  when  sentenced,  under  suspicion  of  toryism, 
td  be  confined  to  his  own  house,  with  a  sentinel  over  him,  he  per- 
suaded this  sentinel  to  go  on  an  errand  for  him,  promising  to  take 
his  place.  The  sentinel  consented  to  the  arrangement,  and  to  the 
great  amusement  of  all  who  passed,  Dr.  Byles  was  seen  very  gravely 
marching  before  his  own  door,  the  musket  on  his  shoulder,  keeping 
guard  over  himself. — Encyc.  Amer. 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  207 

of  the  unprelatical  ministry  of  the  country  advocated  the 
Revolution,  in  public  and  private,  on  Christian  principles. 
They  justified  the  war  on  religious  grounds.  They  be- 
lieved that  human  rights  and  liberties  would  gain  by  its 
success.  They  had  the  sagacity  to  foresee  its  issue. 
Among  the  most  faithful  of  religious  men,  modest  and 
pains-taking  in  their  parishes,  there  was  no  concealment 
of  their  sympathies.  Many  of  them  went  as  chaplains 
into  the  army,  among  them  D wight — clarum  et  verier abile 
nomen ;  and  he  retains  in  his  lyrical  collections  that 
paraphrase  of  the  Psalms  which  is  now  dropped  out  of 
our  books,  as  judged  to  be  obsolete : 

"  Lord,  hast  thou  cast  the  nation  off, 

Must  we  forever  mourn, 
Wilt  thou  indulge  immortal  wrath, 

Shall  mercy  ne'er  return  ? 
Lift  up  a  banner  in  the  field 

For  those  that  fear  thy  name  ; 
Save  thy  beloved  with  thy  shield, 

And  put  our  foes  to  shame. 
Go  with  our  armies  to  the  fight 

Like  a  confed'rate  God  : 
In  vain  confed'rate  foes  unite 

Against  thy  lifted  rod. 
Our  troops  shall  gain  a  wide  renown 

By  thine  assisting  hand  : 
Tis  God  that  treads  the  mighty  down 

And  makes  the  feeble  stand." 

Scarcely  was  there  a  battle-field  in  the  Revolutionary 
war  where  the  clergy  were  not  present,  as  chaplains  or 
surgeons,  to  cheer  and  bless.     Their  patriotism  was   a 


2  o  8  Thanksgiving. 

thing  of  general  admiration.  They  reasoned  themselves 
and  the  country  out  of  all  hesitancy  and  scruples,  as  they 
knew  how  to  reason.  They  abounded  in  what  Sir  John 
Hawkins  calls  "  precatory  eloquence  "  ;  calling  down  the 
blessings  of  the  Almighty  upon  the  country ;  and  the 
depth  and  sway  of  their  influence  in  achieving  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  colonies  cannot  be  too  highly  extolled. 
Withal,  it  was  with  them  a  time  of  great  personal  priva- 
tion and  hardship.  They  shared  in  the  largest  measure 
the  calamities  of  the  country.  They  practised  the  ex- 
treme of  frugality  to  eke  out  their  scanty  subsistence. 
They  were  exposed  to  violent  opposition  in  their  distract- 
ed parishes.  But  they  were,  as  a  body,  brave,  patient, 
meek,  pious,  patriotic,  and  learned  —  an  honor  to  any 
land.  Under  God,  we  owe  it  to  the  ministry  of  that  day 
that  the  morals  of  the  country  were  not  hopelessly 
wrecked  in  the  convulsions  of  the  Revolution.  The  pro- 
fession emerged  from  the  war  with  increased  credit  and 
honor,  and  with  the  confidence,  respect,  and  gratitude  of 
the  people.  The  war  over,  they  led  the  nation  in  song 
and  thanksgiving  on  the  shores  of  the  sea  they  had 
crossed,  and  forthwith  addressed  themselves  to  their 
appropriate  work,  in  conservation  of  the  liberties  which 
the  Revolution  had  helped  to  secure.  A  few  here  and 
there  were  left  in  a  most  pitiful  predicament.  In  tacking 
ship  they  had  missed  stays,  and  were  stranded  on  a  lee 
shore.  In  proof  that  no  human  ministry  is  infallible, 
some  had  misjudged  the  case,  and  were  forced  to  suffer 
the  consequences.  What  was  the  state  of  feeling  in  those 
parishes,  where  the  minister  retained  either  loyalty  to  the 
British  Crown  or  a  professed  neutrality,  may  be  inferred 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  209 

from  a  single  incident.  Rev.  Dr.  Burnet,  of  the  Presby- 
tery of  New  York,  was  settled  in  Jamaica,  L.  I.,  and  at 
the  return  of  peace  felt  himself  obliged  to  resign  his 
charge.  At  the  close  of  his  farewell  service,  he  gave  out 
the  1 20th  Psalm.  Whether  the  muscles  of  the  choir 
were  equal  to  its  musical  intonation,  or  the  minds  of  the 
people  to  its  devout  response,  tradition  does  not  inform 
us  : 

"  Hard  lot  of  mine  ;   my  days  are  cast 
Among  the  sons  of  strife, 
Whose  never-ceasing  quarrels  waste 
My  golden  hours  of  life. 

"  Oh  !  might  I  fly  to  change  my  place, 

How  would  I  choose  to  dwell 

In  some  wide,  lonesome  wilderness, 

And  leave  these  gates  of  hell. 

"  Peace  is  the  blessing  that  I  seek  : 
How  lovely  are  its  charms  ! 
I  am  for  peace  ;  but  when  I  speak, 
They  all  declare  for  arms." 

We  come  now  to  the  second  period  referred  to,  when 
the  preaching  of  some  of  the  clergy  on  political  affairs 
was  of  a  most  notorious  character.  A  change  had  taken 
place  in  political  parties,  and  it  was  so  marked  that  the 
clergy  could  not  conceal  their  sentiments.  With  few 
exceptions,  they  had  been  on  the  side  of  Washington,  and 
bore  the  name  of  Federalists.  When  this  unanimity  was 
disturbed  by  the  election  of  Mr.  Jefferson  to  the  Presi- 
dency, they  inveighed  against  it,  in  some  instances,  with  a 
tremendous  emphasis.     It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that 


210  Thanksgiving. 

party  spirit  was  then  at  fever-heat.  Families  and  neigh- 
borhoods were  set  at  variance,  church-members  of  dif- 
ferent parties  refused  to  pray  together,  and  young  people 
from  families  of  different  political  preferences  would  not 
dance  at  the  same  assemblies.  Never  before  or  since 
did  the  spirit  of  party  prove  itself  so  ardent  and  violent. 
It  was  a  new  experience  for  the  country.  The  clergy 
thought  that  it  portended  worse  than  it  proved.  The 
people  of  New  England,  especially,  looked  with  horror 
upon  French  infidelity — French  revolutions — which  they 
had  associated  with  the  new  party  in  our  own  land.  The 
French  Republic  had  just  before  decreed  the  abolition 
of  all  religion,  and  the  enthronement  of  Human  Reason. 
All  Christendom  was  convulsed  with  terror.  In  1798 
President  Adams  appointed  a  day  of  national  fasting. 
Doubtless  this  association  was  in  part  the  cause  of  the 
hostility  which  the  clergy  manifested  towards  Mr.  Jefferson 
and  his  party.  They  stood  aghast,  thinking  that  the 
country  was  ruined.  They  thought  that  they  would  be 
unfaithful  to  a  solemn  trust,  if  they  did  not  lift  up  their 
voice  in  testimony.  It  amuses  us,  at  this  distance  of 
time,  to  read  what  they  said  and  did.  Some  of  the 
sermons  of  that  day  have  a  historic  renown.  Such,  for 
example,  as  what  is  known  as  the  Jeroboam  Sermon  of 
Dr.  Emmons.  It  was  on  the  day  preceding  the  annual 
Fast-day  in  Massachusetts,  in  the  year  1801,  that  the 
acute  metaphysician  of  Franklin  sat  in  his  study,  greatly 
perplexed  what  to  preach  on  the  ensuing  day.  What  he 
did  preach  was  never  forgotten.  It  was  just  after  the 
inauguration  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  Jeroboam  was  made 
that  day  to  play  a  parallelism  which  would  have  astonish- 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  211 

ed  himself.  The  curious  analogy  is  a  rare  specimen  of 
long-drawn,  solemn,  and  withering  rebuke.  After  it  had 
been  extended  through  nearly  two  hours,  it  hardly  needed 
at  its  close  what,  according  to  the  phraseology  of  the  day, 
was  called  an  "  improvement,"  which  was  given  in  these 
words :  "  It  is  more  than  possible  that  our  nation  may 
find  themselves  in  the  hand  of  a  Jeroboam  who  will  drive 
them  from  following  the  Lord ;  and  whenever  they  do, 
they  will  rue  the  day  and  detest  the  folly,  delusion,  and 
intrigue,  which  raised  him  to  the  head  of  the  United 
States." 

We  are  referring  now  to  facts  which  need  some 
explanation ;  for  which  much  may  be  said  in  apology,  but 
nothing  in  justification  as  a  model  of  duty  for  ourselves. 
The  mistake  was,  that,  in  the  intensity  of  feeling  which 
then  prevailed,  there  was  no  discrimination  between  what 
was  ethical  and  what  was  partisan.  Opposing  the  new 
administration,  on  one  point,  because  of  its  supposed 
affinity  with  French  atheism,  some  fought  it  at  every 
point,  pugnis  et  calcibus — embargo,  gunboats,  no  matter 
what — wherever  it  showed  its  hand  or  head. 

These  political  antipathies  were  long-lived.  They 
culminated  during  the  war  with  England  in  181 2.  But 
they  cropped  out  long  after  whenever  they  could  claim  a 
show  of  decency.  Some  of  the  sermons  preached  during 
that  period  were  of  a  most  extraordinary  character.  No 
dried  orange-peel  or  caraway-seed  were  necessary  to  keep 
audiences  awake  under  those  pulpit  deliverances.  One 
denounces  Napoleon  Bonaparte  as  the  "  first-born  of  the 
devil,"  and  Thomas  Jefferson  and  James  Madison  his 
twin  brothers.     Another  takes  for  his  text  the  8th  verse 


212  Thanksgiving. 

of  the  109th  Psalm:  "Let  his  days  be  few;  and  let  an- 
other take  his  office."  The  "  Bramble  "  sermon  of  Dr. 
Osgood,  of  Medford,  (founded  on  the  parable  of  Jotham, 
Judges  9  :  14  :  "  Then  said  all  the  trees  unto  the  bramble, 
Come  thou,  and  reign  over  us,")  is  as  famous  as  the 
Jeroboam  sermon  of  Dr.  Emmons.  There  was  no  circum- 
locutory preaching  in  those  days.  Velvet  phrases  and 
uncertain  inferences  were  alike  discarded.  It  is  reported 
of  one  minister,  that  for  a  considerable  time  he  was  ac- 
customed to  pray  for  the  Chief  Magistrate  that  God  would 
"gently  and  easily  remove  his  servant  by  death."*  It 
will  be  remembered  by  many  of  our  readers,  that  on  a 
certain  year  a  worthy  gentleman  in  Massachusetts,  after 
being  a  candidate  of  the  Democratic  party  for  Governor 
for  twenty  years,  was  finally  elected  to  the  office  by  a 
majority  of  one  vote.  It  will  also  be  recollected  by  all 
whose  early  life  was  passed  in  that  State,  that  the  custom 
prevailed,  whenever  the  Governor  issued  his  annual  pro- 
clamation for  thanksgiving,  of  sending  by  the  sheriff  of 
the  county  a  copy  of  the  same,  on  a  large  hand-bill,  to  be 
read  from  every  pulpit,  which  document  invariably  closed, 
after  the  signature  of  the  Governor,  with  the  pious  ex- 

*  In  one  instance  a  child  was  presented  in  church,  for  baptism. 
The  father,  having  imbibed  a  preference  for  the  new  politics,  whis- 
pered to  the  clergyman,  as  the  name  to  be  given  to  his  child — 
Thomas  Jefferson.  Horrified  at  the  sound,  the  old  minister  dip- 
ped his  hand  in  the  baptismal  font,  and,  with  a  firm  voice,  announced 
that  the  child's  name  was  John.  "Thomas — Thomas  Jefferson," 
interrupted  the  father.  But  the  old  Federalist  would  not  budge ; 
finishing  the  scene  as  he  had  begun.  He  would  not  profane  the 
House  of  God  by  repeating  in  Christian  Baptism  the  name  he  so 
resolutely  abhorred. 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  213 

clamation,  "  God  save  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachu- 
setts !  "  On  the  year  referred  to  the  newly-elected  magis- 
trate issued  his  proclamation  in  the  usual  form.  It  is 
said  that  a  venerable  clergyman,  of  the  old  party,  laid  the 
broad  sheet  over  his  reading-board,  and  after  performing 
the  professional  duty  of  reciting  it,  with  an  ill-disguised 
aversion,  actually  announced  the  official  signature  with 
this  significant  intonation  :  "  Marcus  Morton,  Governor  ? 
God  save  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts  !  " 

It  is  for  an  important  purpose  that  we  have  referred 
to  a  few  of  these  notorious  incidents  which  belong  to  the 
history  of  the  American  pulpit.  Admit  that  such  acts 
and  expressions  on  the  part  of  the  ministry  were  mistakes, 
never  to  be  imitated, — much  should  be  said  for  their  ex- 
culpation. In  the  first  place,  the  instances  of  such 
distinctively  political  preaching  were  comparatively  few. 
The  very  notoriety  which  these  have  attained  is  in  proof 
that  the  great  body  of  the  ministry,  whatever  may  have 
been  their  private  sentiments,  addicted  themselves  faith- 
fully to  the  great  concerns  of  their  office.  In  many 
instances,  those  who  had  practised  this  method  of  political 
preaching  lived  to  express  their  personal  regret  for  the 
same.  The  late  Rev.  Dr.  Lyman,  of  Hatfield,  at  the 
installation  of  his  successor,  used  language  truly  pathetic 
in  the  acknowledgment  of  what  he  regarded  as  a  great 
mistake  in  his  own  ministry.  Another  thing  to  be  said  in 
their  vindication  is,  that  such  utterances  were  not  on  the 
Sabbath-day,  but,  perhaps  without  exception,  on  Fast-days, 
or  Thanksgiving-days,  or — what  was  always  celebrated 
in  New  England  by  a  sermon — Election-day.  Still  another 
thing  should  be  said.     The  clergy  of  that  period  had 


214  Thanksgiving. 

been  educated  to  regard  themselves  as  the  "moral  police 
and  constabulary  of  the  country,"  and  silence,  sudden 
and  complete,  was  more  than  could  be  expected  of  mortal 
man,  when  on  the  losing  side,  after  a  lifetime  of  explicit 
and  applauded  testimony.  Nor  must  we  forget  to  add 
that,  in  times  of  high  political  excitement,  the  words  of  a 
minister,  in  prayer  or  sermon,  receive  a  construction  from 
interested  and  jealous  parties  which  they  were  never 
intended  to  bear.  Minds  surcharged  with  political  parti- 
sanship will  pervert,  and  exaggerate,  and  apply  the  sim- 
ple utterances  of  a  minister,  in  a  way  which  might  well 
astonish  him.  Rev.  Dr.  David  Ely,  of  Huntington, 
Connecticut,  is  described  as  one  of  the  most  prudent, 
faithful,  spiritual  pastors  of  his  times.  In  a  season  of 
great  political  excitement,  it  was  reported  by  persons 
hostile  to  him,  that  he  had  preached  on  political  subjects 
in  a  neighboring  parish.  It  was  thought  proper  to  trace 
the  report  to  its  source.  The  neighboring  parish  was 
visited,  and  the  inquiry  made  :  "  Did  Dr.  Ely  preach 
politics  when  here  ?  Yes.  What  did  he  say  ?  Well,  sir, 
if  he  did  not  preach  politics,  he  prayed  politics.  What 
did  he  say?  Say  ?  he  said,  '  Though  hand  join  in  hand, 
yet  the  wicked  shall  not  go  unpunished.'  "  Seasons  there 
are  when  auditors  are  so  magnetized  with  partisan  pas- 
sion, that  they  put  their  own  sense  on  the  language  of  a 
preacher,  exaggerating  or  misapplying  it,  so  that  in  the 
presence  of  such  a  suspicious  and  watchful  jealousy  he 
stands  no  chance  at  all,  unless  he  adopt  the  resolution 
of  the  Psalmist  on  a  certain  occasion :  "  I  will  keep  my 
mouth  with  a  bridle,  while  the  wicked  is  before  me." 
This  rapid  survey  of  a  very  extended  historic  period, 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  215 

with  its  motley  assemblage  of  incidents,  may  help  us  in 
our  undertaking  to  state  some  of  the  principles  which 
should  govern  the  Christian  ministry  in  their  official  rela- 
tions to  political  concerns.  Starting  from  that  which  we 
hold  to  be  the  grand  design  of  the  Gospel  and  its  ap- 
pointed heralds — to  save  the  souls  of  men — whatever 
their  nationality  or  their  politics,  we  hold  that  every  thing 
pertaining  to  the  sphere  of  morals  belongs  to  the  province 
of  the  Christian  theologian  and  preacher.  We  emphasize 
the  word  which  helps  us  to  discriminate  between  what  has 
been  right  and  what  wrong  in  the  practice  of  the  pulpit. 
What  is  distinctively  ethical  may  be  discussed  in  its 
proper  time  and  place  on  Christian  principles.  There 
are  ethical  principles  which  should  govern  our  conduct  in 
political  relations.  There  are  many  things  pertaining  to 
what  are  called  politics  which  involve  no  special  relation 
to  morals,  concerning  which  a  minister  may  have  his  per- 
sonal preference,  but  which  it  would  be  highly  indecorous 
for  him  to  introduce  and  urge  officially.  The  relations 
of  morality  and  immorality  to  political  economy  are 
many  j  but  we  would  hardly  judge  that  theories  of  free 
trade,  and  taxation,  and  naval  architecture,  and  embar- 
goes, were  the  proper  material  for  pulpit  instruction. 
Are  we  required  to  give  the  rule  which  should  govern  a 
minister  in  his  treatment  of  those  political  questions 
which  are  directly  related  to  morals?  None  can  be 
given,  beyond  this — they  should  be  presented  according 
to  the  proportio7i  of  faith  ;  in  the  right  season  ;  and  in 
the  right  manner.  The  whole  gradation  must  be  left  to 
the  good  sense  and  enlightened  judgment  of  the 
preacher  himself.     If  he  is  lacking  in  these  qualities,  no 


2 1 6  Thanksgiving. 

number  of  specific  directions  would  be  of  any  avail. 
Topics  in  the  whole  range  of  moral  relations,  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest,  belong  to  his  sphere — but  the  or- 
der, frequency,  and  emphasis  of  their  discussion  must 
depend  on  seasons  and  necessities  which  cannot  be  de- 
fined in  advance. 

Some  things,  however,  may  be  made  more  specific. 
Happily,  we  live  in  a  country  where  there  is  no  alliance 
between  Church  and  State.  No  political  power,  organized 
or  unorganized,  may  prescribe  and  dictate  what  a  minis- 
ter shall  preach.  This  freedom,  however,  has  two  sides 
or  aspects  ;  for  neither  may  a  preacher  prescribe  or  dic- 
tate to  his  hearers  what  they  shall  think  or  do,  except  in 
those  cases  where  he  has  the  authority  of  the  Supreme. 
We  touch  at  once  the  secret  of  popular  jealousy  in  regard 
to  pulpit  utterances.  These  have  been  made,  sometimes, 
with  arrogance  and  assumed  authority.  There  was  a 
time  when  the  clergy  wore  big  wigs  and  an  imposing 
official  dress  ;  and  it  was  expected  that  their  opinions 
would  be  received  with  deference  by  a  reverential  parish. 

"  For  still  they  gazed,  and  still  the  wonder  grew 
That  one  small  head  could  carry  all  he  knew." 

The  time  has  come  when  opinions  do  not  prevail  be- 
cause uttered  ex  cathedra.  If  an  incumbent  of  the  pulpit 
indulges  in  crude  thoughts,  immature  judgments,  ebulli- 
tions of  feeling,  and  false  reasoning,  he  must  expect 
animadversion,  correction,  and  refutation.  Another 
cometh  after  him  and  searcheth  him.  No  one  would  cur- 
tail the  freedom  of  the  ministry,  but  the  ministry  must 
remember  that  there  is  a  freedom  and  right  of  judgment 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  217 

for  the  pews  as  well  as  the  pulpit.  We  should  not  for  a 
moment  hold  controversy  with  a  man  whether  he  ought 
or  ought  not  to  assert  and  promulgate  the  will  of  God, 
when  he  knows  it — and  to  challenge  the  obedience  of  all 
men  to  that  supreme  authority.  But  when  he  assumes 
the  same  tone  and  manner  of  authority  in  reference  to 
matters  unwritten,  involved,  and  debatable,  we  may  surely 
ask  him  to  exhibit  his  credentials.  We  will  be  the  first 
to  submit  to  his  dictation  when  we  have  actually  seen  the 
seal  of  heaven  in  his  hand,  and  are  satisfied  on  the  capi- 
tal point  of  his  divine  legation.*  The  occult  principle 
which  has  occasioned  all  the  rancor  and  hostility  excited 
by  the  interference  of  the  pulpit,  is  this  assumption  of 
divine  authority  in  behalf  of  what  is  nothing  but  an  indi- 
vidual opinion.  If  the  man  who  derives  his  opinion, 
simply,  by  his  own  confession,  from  the  personal  study 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  who  has  enjoyed  none  but  ordinary 
aids,  who  can  advance  no  pretensions  which  others  may 
not  also  challenge,  is  entitled  to  speak  in  the  tone  and  to 
exercise  the  authority  of  a  prophet  or  apostle,  then  what 
was  the  necessity  of  the  extraordinary  powers  wherewith 
prophets  and  apostles  were  endowed  ?  A  vast  distinc- 
tion is  there  between  the  prodigious  pretensions  of  the 
zealot  demagogue  and  the  modest  expression  of  an  indi- 
vidual judgment. 

Every  minister  of  the  Gospel  is  entitled  to  the  same 
freedom  of  opinion  and  preference  on  all  subjects  as 
other  men.  Paraphrasing  the  language  of  Shylock,  he 
may  say  :  "lama  minister  j  hath  not  a  minister  eyes  ? 

*  Isaac  Taylor. 
10 


1 1 8  Thanksgiving. 

hath  he  not  hands,  organs,  dimensions,  senses,  affections, 
passions?  fed  with  the  same  food,  hurt  with  the  same 
weapons,  subject  to  the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the 
same  means,  warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same  winter  and 
summer,  as  other  men  \  if  you  prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed  ? 
if  you  tickle  us,  do  we  not  laugh  ?  if  you  poison  us,  do 
we  not  die  ?  and  if  you  wrong  us  " — we  will  not  add  with 
the  Jew,  "  shall  we  not  revenge  ?  "  but  we  will  say,  "  shall 
we  not  show  you  how  to  bear  it  ? "  This  freedom  of 
judgment  allowed  him,  no  minister  has  the  right  to  pro- 
trude officially  his  private  opinions  and  preferences  in 
regard  to  matters  which  do  not  affect  the  sublime  morali- 
ties of  his  vocation.  Especially  to  indulge  in  personali- 
ties, in  partisan  advocacy  or  military  criticisms  in  the 
pulpit,  whatever  right  or  liberty  he  may  claim  elsewhere, 
is  a  public  scandal  and  wrong.  It  would  seem  to  be  the 
doctrine  of  some  preachers,  because  they  had  certain 
opinions  in  regard  to  men  and  measures,  therefore,  they 
are  bound  on  all  occasions  to  avow  them,  going  through 
the  world,  like  the  iron  man  Talus  in  the  drama,  with  his 
iron  flail  battering  down  whatever  opposes  their  private 
sentiments.  The  meanest  thing  which  crawls  on  the  earth 
is  a  man  who,  for  his  private  advantage,  will  follow  and 
cringe  and  swallow  his  own  opinions  ;  but  the  noblest 
form  of  manhood  is  he  who  holds  his  personal  opinions 
on  things  indifferent  in  reserve  for  the  sublime  end  of 
another's  advantage — as  the  Apostle  himself  has  ex- 
pressed it :  "I  become  all  things  to  all  men,  if  by  any 
means  I  might  save  some  "  j  that  nobility  and  grandeur 
of  Christian  motives  imparting  versatility  of  address, 
and  deportment  in  the  use  of  his  varied  faculties  and 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  2 1 9 

opinions,  lest  he  should  frustrate  that  object — the  salvation 
of  the  soul,  which  was  his  disinterested  and  lofty  intention. 

A  fortunate  thing  it  is  for  our  country  that  its  clergy 
of  all  denominations,  unlike  the  clerical  party  of  Conti- 
nental Europe,  regarded  with  suspicion  as  enemies  to 
liberty  and  progress,  are  known  to  be  eminently  patriotic, 
and  as  a  body  are  possessed  of  the  confidence  and 
respect  of  the  people.  If  the  great  events  of  our  time, 
absorbing  thought,  and  eliciting  national  energy  ;  events 
which  are  rapidly  consuming  hecatombs  of  lives  and  mil- 
lions of  treasure,  and  threatening  to  involve  the  peace 
of  the  world,  do  not  afford  an  occasion  for  the  teachers 
of  religion  to  lift  up  their  voice  in  the  name  of  God  and 
humanity,  then  must  we  confess  ourselves  utterly  unable 
to  conceive  of  any  conjunction  of  earthly  interests  to 
which  Christian  truth  and  motive  are  applicable.* 

To  inaugurate  war  gratuitously ;  to  attempt  to  over- 
throw civil  government,  without  adequate  reasons,  such  as 
are  sanctioned  by  God  and  man,  as  necessary  and  bene- 
volent, is  a  crime,  which,  measured  by  its  consequences, 
makes  all  other  crimes  insignificant.  This  admitted, 
there  are  wars  which  are  justifiable  to  Christian  ethics. 

*  The  substance  of  this  chapter,  and  of  several  which  follow, 
was  written  during  that  tremendous  civil  war  out  of  which  we  have 
so  happily  emerged.  Believing  that  the  principles  here  inculcated 
are  of  no  ephemeral  character,  the  writer  retains  every  thing  in  its 
original  and  unaltered  form,  hoping  that  it  may  be  of  permanent 
service,  as  illustrating  the  manner  in  which  the  Christian  ministry  in 
the  Loyal  States,  with  few  exceptions,  were  accustomed  to  instruct 
their  congregations  as  to  the  religious  rules  to  be  observed  in  the 
several  stages  of  this  most  eventful  struggle. 


1 1  o  Thanksgiving. 

"  The  magistrate,"  says  the  word  of  God,  "  beareth  not 
the  sword  in  vain."  It  is  to  be  wielded  in  defence  of 
what  is  good, — for  the  conservation  of  a  well-ordered 
society.  It  is  not  an  inference,  but  the  explicit  assertion 
of  Scripture,  that  government  is  God's  ordinance,  and  as 
such  must  be  obeyed,  and  those  who  do  it  violence  must 
be  smitten.  An  army  is  only  the  instrument  of  magis- 
tracy, the  reduplication  of  official  weapons. 

We  are  engaged  in  a  contest  for  the  conservation  of 
our  national  existence,  and  in  such  a  cause  may  appeal  to 
something  higher  than  honor — the  aid  and  blessing  of 
that  religion  which  has  given  its  sanction  to  lawful  magis- 
trates and  constituted  governments.  So  long  as  this  one 
object  is  kept  in  mind,  distinct  and  unalloyed  by  malig- 
nant passions,  we  may  leave  our  appeal  with  the  Almighty, 
going  forth  to  battle,  with  faith  and  prayer,  for  justice  and 
humanity.  What  greater  evil  could  befall — we  will  not 
say  our  own  land,  but  all  lands — than  the  success  of 
ambitious  and  wicked  men,  misleading  communities,  drag- 
ging States  into  the  vortex  of  war  at  their  own  passionate 
will,  without  rebuke  or  punishment  ? 

Our  country  stands  not  in  the  rear  but  in  the  van  of 
the  grand  army  of  nations.  Behind  us  are  great  historic 
forces ;  before  us  are  great  duties,  great  hopes,  great 
destinies.  The  drama  of  History  is  not  complete.  We 
have  our  own  peculiar  work  to  achieve,  and  that  work  is 
related  alike  to  the  past  and  the  future  of  the  world.  We 
are  acting  now,  not  merely  for  ourselves  and  our  children, 
but  in  the  interest  of  all  contemporary  nations,  and  in 
behalf  of  all  the  nations  that  ever  shall  be  organized  on 
the  earth.     The  question  now  to  be  decided  is — and  there 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  ii\ 

is  not  an  aspirant  for  freedom,  nor  an  agent  of  despotic 
and  irresponsible  power  in  any  part  of  the  world,  who 
does  not  watch  the  issue  on  the  very  tiptoe  of  expectation 
— whether  any  people  are  capable  of  self-government; 
whether  the  passions  of  men  can  be  so  curbed  and  moder- 
ated, that  of  their  own  accord  free  citizens  will  subject 
their  private  will  to  the  public  welfare,  preferring  the 
order  and  sanctity  of  law  and  government  to  personal 
ambition  and  private  resentments  ;  whether  a  free,  equi- 
table, and  benignant  government  shall  spread  its  protec- 
tion over  all  classes  alike,  or  whether  it  shall  be  stricken, 
stabbed,  revolutionized,  and  overthrown,  for  the  pleasure 
and  promotion  of  a  few. 

Nor  can  we,  if  we  would,  blink  the  fact  that  we  carry 
explosive  problems  in  our  own  bosom,  especially  relative 
to  that  unhappy  race  on  whose  ebon  faces  the  sad  expe- 
rience of  centuries  has  sculptured  the  cast  of  patient 
subjection.  We  know  not  a  subject  which  has  more 
points  of  contact  and  relationship  with  the  proper  prov- 
ince of  the  Christian  ministry  than  the  existing  condition 
and  prospects  of  the  African  race.  First  of  all,  he  who 
questions  the  unity  of  the  human  race,  by  denying  those 
bronzed  in  hue  a  place  in  the  common  brotherhood,  aims 
a  blow  higher  than  he  knows,  at  the  very  structure  of 
Christianity.  That  there  is  one  parentage,  one  race,  one 
historic  necessity,  one  and  only  one  Redeemer  for  all 
mankind,  is  the  very  alphabet  of  our  creed.  Then,  again, 
comes  in  the  doctrine  of  the  New  Testament,  that  while 
there  is  something  better  than  liberty,  even  a  relationship 
to  Christ  which  lifts  a  human  soul  so  high  that  it  may  be 
oblivious  to  the  ordinary  distinctions  of  earthly  condition, 


222  Thanksgiving. 

yet  on  the  same  authority  we  learn  that  freedom  is  better 
than  slavery,  and  so  is,  if  it  may  be,  to  be  preferred  and 
used.  These  things,  we  should  say,  are  axioms  in  social 
and  theological  science.  If  it  were  our  object  to  express 
ourselves  in  strongest  terms  on  this  subject,  we  would  agree 
to  confine  ourselves  to  the  language  used  by  the  fathers 
of  the  Republic,  especially  those  who  were  personally 
related  by  birth  and  inheritance  to  a  system  which  they 
pronounced  and  reprobated  as  a  tremendous  evil,  social, 
political,  and  moral.* 


*  Henry  Laurens,  for  two  years  President  of  the  Continental 
Congress,  and  afterwards  appointed  Minister  to  Holland,  wrote  to  his 
son  from  Charleston,  S.  C,  14th  August,  1776  :  "  You  know,  my  dear 
son,  I  abhor  slavery.  I  was  born  in  a  country  where  slavery  had 
been  established  by  British  kings  and  parliaments,  as  well  as  by  the 
laws  of  that  country  ages  before  my  existence.  I  found  the  Christian 
religion  and  slavery  growing  under  the  same  authority  and  cultivation. 
I  nevertheless  disliked  it.  In  former  days  there  was  no  combating 
the  prejudices  of  men  supported  by  interest ;  the  day,  I  hope,  is 
approaching,  when,  from  principles  of  gratitude  as  well  as  justice, 
every  man  will  strive  to  be  foremost  in  showing  his  readiness  to  com- 
ply with  the  golden  rule." — Collection  of  the  Zenger  Club,  p.  20. 

Mr.  Jefferson,  when  in  France  in  1 786,  in  a  note  to  M.  Demeunier, 
whom  he  had  furnished  with  copious  materials  for  his  article  on  the 
United  States,  about  to  appear  in  the  great  Encyclopedic  Methodique, 
uses  this  language  :  "  What  a  stupendous,  what  an  incomprehensible 
machine  is  man,  who  can  endure  toil,  famine,  stripes,  imprisonment, 
and  death  itself,  in  vindication  of  his  own  liberty,  and  the  next 
moment  be  deaf  to  all  those  motives  whose  power  supported  him 
through  his  trial,  and  inflict  on  his  fellow-men  a  bondage  one  hour 
of  which  is  fraught  with  more  misery  than  ages  of  that  which  he  rose 
in  rebellion  to  oppose  !  But  we  must  await  with  patience  the  work- 
ings of  an  over-ruling  Providence,  and  hope  that  that  is  preparing 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit.  223 

Whether  the  conservation  and  extension  of  slavery  be 
merely  the  pretext  or  the  cause  of  the  war  ;  whether  any 
who  originated  the  war  can  plead  provocation  in  the  form 
of  fanatical  acerbities,  is  not  now  the  question  in  debate, 
though  we  cannot  but  regret  that  the  temper  which  gov- 
erned our  fathers,  regarding  this  as  a  common  concern, 
to  be  tolerated  as  a  necessity  for  a  season  and  removed 
as  soon  as  it  could  be — a  temper  which  was  merged  and 
blended  in  a  blessed  patriotism — was  not  continued  and 
perpetuated ;  though  we  often  frame  to  ourselves  a  picture 
of  what  this  country  might  and  would  have  been  if  all  its 
different  sections  could  have  looked  and  acted  on  this 
subject  in  the  charitable  spirit  of  a  family  community  of 
interest  and  honor,  and  a  small  portion  of  the  immense 
treasures  now  expended  in  war  could  have  been  fairly 
appropriated  for  the  removal  of  the  mischief;  yet  so  it 
was  not  to  be.  Our  regrets  cannot  recall  the  past,  and 
the  issue  is  made  and  joined.  This  war  is  not,  in  our 
interpretation  and  intention,  for  the  abolition  of  slavery, 
though  that  event  is  involved  in  its  issue.  The  responsi- 
bility of  such  an  issue  is  with  those  who  inaugurated  the 
war,  not  unwarned  of  its  inevitable  consequences.  The 
contest  on  our  part  is  for  the  conservation  of  the  national 

the  deliverance  of  these  our  suffering  brethren.  When  the  measure 
of  their  tears  shall  be  full ;  when  their  groans  shall  have  involved 
heaven  itself  in  darkness — doubtless  a  God  of  justice  will  awaken  to 
their  distress,  and,  by  diffusing  light  and  liberty  among  their  oppres- 
sors, or,  at  length,  by  his  exterminating  thunder,  manifest  his  atten- 
tion to  the  things  of  this  world,  and  that  they  are  not  left  to  the 
guidance  of  a  blind  fatality." — Jefferson's  Writings,  vol.  ix.  pp.  278, 
279. 


224  Thanksgiving. 

life,  and  the  preservation  of  that  constitutional  govern- 
ment which,  under  God,  is  the  only  barrier  between  us 
and  universal  chaos.  We  know  of  nothing  between  us 
and  that  object  which  should  obstruct  our  end.  We 
intend  to  love  nothing,  conserve  nothing,  consult  nothing, 
occupying  intermediate  ground  between  us  and  the  life, 
honor,  and  constitution  of  the  country.  Whatever  inter- 
poses itself  between  us  and  that  grand  and  sacred  end 
which  religion  sanctions,  must  take  care  of  itself. 

Lift  high  the  bright  banner  which  symbolizes  Unity, 
Constitutional  law,  National  honor  and  integrity,  dearer 
to  us  now  that  the  blood  of  our  citizenship  has  sanctified 
every  fold  and  star.  Avoid  every  suspicion  of  political 
jealousy  and  ambition.  Weaken  not  the  "  red  right  arm  " 
of  magistracy  by  suffering  party  rivalries  to  invade  our 
armies.  The  very  animals  in  the  time  of  a  deluge,  seek- 
ing refuge  in  the  same  caves,  forgot  their  ancient  anti- 
pathies. Common  dangers,  common  sufferings,  common 
necessities,  ought  to  unite  us  at  that  point  where  unity  is 
essential  to  the  preservation  of  life. 

Whatever  comes  to  pass,  let  us  hold  ourselves  firm  in 
the  faith  that  there  is  an  essential  difference  between  what 
is  right  and  what  is  wrong,  between  good  government  and 
wild  revolutions,  and  as  God  lives,  that  which  is  right 
will  ultimately  prosper.  The  future  is  hid  from  our  inspec- 
tion. No  words  of  empty  boast  or  defiance  have  we  in 
regard  to  menaces  from  across  the  sea.  We  are  neither 
over-sensitive  nor  indifferent.  Willing  or  unwilling,  all 
nations  are  related  by  manifold  bonds  which  mountains 
and  oceans  cannot  destroy.  What  is  of  real  and  perma- 
nent value  to  us  as  a  nation,  will  prove  the  same  to  all 


Politics  and  the  Pulpit,  225 

other  nations  in  the  end.  We  are  very  calm  and  confident 
as  to  the  final  issue.  Intermediate  suffering  there  may 
be,  perhaps  beyond  all  which  we  have  ever  imagined. 
The  fires  may  wax  hotter  which  Heaven  shall  see  to  be 
needful  to  burn  up  our  dross  and  weld  us  into  a  purer 
and  firmer  nationality. 

Hilarity  is  not  becoming  the  hour  of  suffering,  but 
cheerfulness  is,  and  patriotism,  and  hope  and  love  and 
faith  in  God.  What  a  day  will  that  be,  when  prejudice, 
passion,  and  falsehood  shall  all  disappear ;  when  there 
shall  be  no  more  occasion  for  war,  because  there  is  no 
more  of  lawlessness  and  crime ;  when  there  shall  be  no 
breaking  in  nor  going  out ;  when  there  shall  be  no  more 
complaining  in  the  streets  ;  when  the  deepest  of  all  ques- 
tions, underlying  the  relations  of  employers  and  employees, 
the  question  of  races,  shall  be  solved  in  the  harmony  and 
love  of  the  latter  day  ;  when  all  the  cities  which  gem  the 
shores  of  the  sea,  and  all  the  valleys  and  cottages  which 
brighten  the  landscape  of  our  beautiful  country,  shall  be 
cheerful  with  the  music  of  industrial  freedom ;  when  con- 
fidence and  goodly  fellowship  shall  displace  suspicion, 
rivalry,  and  jealousy;  when  Peace,  with  her  olive-boughs 
and  dove-like  tones,  shall  bless  the  land,  and  all  the 
people  shall  go  up  to  the  temples  of  religion  with  their 
songs  of  melody,  thanksgiving,  and  praise.  The  Lord 
grant  it  in  His  own  time  ! 


CHRISTIAN    PATRIOTISM. 


Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem  :  they  shall  prosper  that  love 
thee.  Peace  be  within  thy  walls,  and  prosperity  within  thy  palaces. 
For  my  brethren  and  companions'  sakes,  I  will  now  say,  Peace  be 
within  thee.  Because  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  our  God  I  will 
seek  thy  good. 

Ps.  122  :  6-9. 


XL 

CHRISTIAN     PATRIOTISM. 

I  see  not  how  any  man  of  ordinary  sensibility  can 
read,  intelligently,  the  12 2d  Psalm,  known  as  a  song  of 
degrees — a  chant  for  the  going  up  to  the  Holy  City — with 
a  full  comprehension  of  its  origin,  import,  and  use ;  re- 
calling the  scene  as  it  was,  on  a  bright  Sabbath  of  the 
Spring  or  Summer,  the  tribes  of  Israel  coming  down  from 
the  slopes  of  the  mountains  round  about  Jerusalem,  and 
coining  up  from  the  glens  of  the  vine  and  the  olive,  flow- 
ing together  in  their  multitudinous  processions  towards 
their  sacred  city  and  the  House  of  God,  singing  aloud  in 
the  open  air,  fragrant  with  the  scent  of  the  rose,  and 
musical  with  the  hum  of  bees  ;  joining  in  full-voiced 
chorus  as  the  gates  were  passed — "  Our  feet  are  standing 
within  thy  gates,  O  Jerusalem — whither  the  tribes  go  up, 
the  tribes  of  the  Lord,  to  give  thanks  unto  the  name  of 
the  Lord," — I  cannot  see  how  one  can  catch  the  full  in- 
spiration of  such  a  scene,  and  such  words,  without  having 
his  eyes  suffused,  and  his  heart  dilated  with  high  and 
grand  emotions.  When  we  analyze  the  Psalm  itself,  we 
find  it  embodies  two  great  sentiments — Religion  and 
Patriotism ;    or,  to  express   the   truth  more  accurately, 


230  Thanksgiving. 

these  sentiments  which,  under  analysis,  appear  distinct 
and  several,  are  here  combined  and  blended  into  one 
great  emotion  of  religious  patriotism  ;  the  love  and  wor- 
ship of  God  promoted  in  the  hearts  of  Israel's  tribes  by 
the  memory  of  what  God  had  wrought  for  their  country  ; 
and  that  country  made  a  thousand-fold  dearer  to  them 
all  because  it  was  the  seat  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  their 
God ;  the  abode  chosen  above  all  others  upon  the  earth 
for  the  display  of  His  majesty,  and  justice,  and  mercy. 

This  Psalm  harmonizes  so  perfectly  into  one  feeling 
the  love  of  God  and  the  love  of  country,  that  it  has  been 
preserved  in  the  treasures  of  inspiration,  not  as  a  dead 
relic  of  a  dead  and  forgotten  generation,  but  as  an  incite- 
ment and  an  expression  of  those  high-toned  emotions 
which  ought  to  characterize  all  Christian  Patriots. 

When  I  think  that  he  who  has  determined  to  establish 
a  kingdom  of  his  own  upon  the  earth — a  kingdom  whose 
brightest  regalia  are  righteousness,  and  love,  and  joy — a 
kingdom  for  whose  coming  we  are  taught  to  pray  every 
morning  and  evening  of  our  lives  ;  when  I  remember  that 
He  who  has  ordained  the  end  has  also  ordained  the 
means  and  the  instruments ;  that  if  there  is  to  be  a  church 
in  the  world  then  there  must  be  a  world  continued  and 
established,  to  be  at  once  the  theatre  of  its  action,  and 
the  subject  of  its  power ;  that  a  prosperous,  social  state, 
with  all  the  elements  of  happy  civilization,  just  laws, 
established  order,  government  gentle  but  strong,  is  not 
only  a  result  wrought  by  religion,  but  the  opportunity  for 
religion  to  develop  itself  and  work  unmolested  and  un- 
hindered ;  that  the  chief  evil  attendant  upon  all  systems 
of  despotism  or  states  of  anarchy  and  revolution,  is,  that 


Christian  Patriotism.  23 1 

they  accumulate  obstacles  in  the  path  of  Christianity, 
and  that  the  grandest  result  of  all  true  liberty  is,  that, 
under  its  auspices,  the  Word  of  the  Lord  has  free  course, 
and  is  glorified;  that  the  Gospel  is  preached  with  great- 
est success,  and  the  churches  thrive,  and  multiply,  when 
the  civil  power  is  so  administered  that  we  can  "  lead  a 
quiet  and  peaceable  life  in  all  godliness  and  honesty," — 
as  I  take  into  view  all  these  facts  and  truths,  then  patriot- 
ism becomes  impregnated  with  a  new  motive,  redeemed 
from  all  association  with  that  cheap  and  vulgar  quality 
which  is  so  much  eulogized  in  vapid  declamation,  and 
wedded  to  religious  ideas — learns  to  sing  as  in  the  sacred 
Psalm,  "  Because  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  our  God  I 
will  seek  thy  good." 

The  love  of  country,  in  times  of  trial  and  peril,  needs 
to  be  invigorated  and  exalted  by  that  class  of  motives 
which  can  be  drawn  only  from  our  religion. 

*  At  this  very  hour  we  are  passing  through  scenes, 
which,  for  suffering  and  terror,  we  had  supposed  belonged 
only  to  the  historic  past.  The  sea  has  "  wrought  and 
is  tempestuous."  We  are  engaged  in  what  has  always 
been  regarded  as  the  saddest  of  all  national  calamities — 
a  civil  war.  No  Roman  general,  victorious  in  civil  strife, 
ever  received  a  public  ovation  such  as  was  allotted  to 
him  who  conquered  a  foreign  foe  ;  since,  in  his  case,  the 
success  of  duty  was  best  honored  by  sad  and  reverent 
silence.  Things  which  we  have  read  of  with  pale  lip,  as 
occurring  in  other  lands,  have  actually  come  upon  our- 
selves, and  men's  hearts  are  failing  them  for  looking  for 
those  things  which  are  coming  to  pass.     Thoughtful  men 

*  Vide  note,  p.  219. 


23  2  Thanksgiving. 

fear  more  than  they  utter.     From  causes  which  I  need 
not  attempt  to  describe,  multitudes  have  fallen  into  de- 
spondency  and    gloom.       Should   this    temper   become 
prevalent,  it  would  realize  at  once  the  worst  mischiefs 
that  ever  have  been  imagined.     What  is  needed  now  is 
a  generous  cordial  of  confidence   and  hope,  stimulating 
the  body  politic  into  a  state  of  tonic  life,  superior  to  all 
the  depressions  and  dumb  agues  of  temporary  and  local 
causes.     And  this  can  be  administered  only  in  one  way. 
We  need,  at  this  moment,  a  large  infusion  of  religious 
patriotism.     We  need  to  be  lifted  up  to  loftier  concep- 
tions of  our  nationality,  as  related  to  the  providence  of 
God  in  the  progress  of  His  eternal  kingdom.     I  fear  that 
too  many  frame  their  predictions  and  shape  their  conduct 
from  the  fluctuations  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  and  the 
reports  of  the  daily  bulletin.     We  must  plant  our  feet  on 
firmer  ground  than  this,  and  lift  up  our  eyes  to  higher 
objects.     The  events  of  a  single  day  are  but  a  brief  pa- 
renthesis in  the  roll  of  historic  ages.     The  stars  above 
us  are  all  in  their  places ;  the  ordinances  of  heaven  are 
established  in  their  faithfulness.     God  is  on  the  throne, 
and  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away  before  one  jot  or 
tittle  of  His  Word  shall  fail  of  its  fulfilment.     Far  above 
all  that  is  personal,  or  sectional,  or  partisan,  oblivious 
to  the  petty  differences  of  the  hour,  burying  all  subordi- 
nate questions  of  detail,  emulating  the  high-souled  deeds 
of  our  fathers,  possessed  of  a  magnanimous  conception 
of  our  entire  Christian  nationality,   as  essential  to  the 
welfare  of  all  races — Saxon,  Kelt,  African — black  or  white 
— to  the  interests  of  religion,  to  all  the  hopes  of  human- 
ity in  every  portion  of  the  globe — to  the  thousandth  gen- 


Christian  Patriotism.  233 

eration — far  above  and  out  of  sight  of  all  measures, 
mistakes,  and  successes  of  an  hour — up  and  up  must  we 
rise,  planting  our  feet  on  ultimate  truths,  standing  stead- 
fast and  immovable  in  religious  faith,  "  encouraging  our- 
selves in  the  Lord,"  as  did  David  amid  the  perils  and 
disasters  of  Ziklag,  and  chanting  our  psalm  above  the 
voice  of  the  storm.  When  Paul  and  his,  companions  in 
their  leaky  ship  were  driven  and  tossed  by  the  Eurocly- 
don,  his  object  was  not  to  save  the  ship,  but  the  lives  of 
all  she  carried.  Tossed  and  driven  by  this  tempestuous 
wind,  our  purpose  and  endeavor  is  not  to  save  ourselves 
— each  for  himself — but  to  save  the  ship  freighted  with 
such  a  priceless  wealth.  No  one  must  be  suffered  to 
leave  the  ship,  letting  down  a  boat  into  the  sea,  and  flee- 
ing stealthily,  as  though  they  would  do  something  about 
the  bow  :  no  one  must  be  planning  how  to  construct  a 
raft  out  of  the  broken  pieces  of  the  ship  when  she  has 
fallen  apart :  if  the  ship  is  among  shoals  and  breakers, 
she  must  be  saved  :  "  better  that  we  had  not  loosed  from 
Crete  and  gained  this  harm  and  loss;"  but  let  regrets 
and  recriminations  go  by  us  now  on  the  gale :  every  man 
must  be  at  his  post  :  let  us  unite  our  strength  and  wis- 
dom :  try  every  expedient,  undergird  the  ship,  shift  her 
sails,  take  refreshment  after  a  long  abstinence,  be  of  good 
cheer,  and  instead  of  running  her  aground,  strike  for  the 
deep  sea — bear  off  from  dangerous  shoals  and  soundings 
— make  her  strong,  and  tight,  and  staunch,  from  truck  to 
keelson,  instinct  with  life,  obedient  to  her  wheel ;  so  shall 
she  save  all  who  sail  in  her,  and  accomplish  the  voyage 
for  which  she  was  built,  launched,  and  out-fitted. 

There  is  a  patriotism  which  is  chiefly  an  unthinking 


23  4  Thanksgiving. 

impulse,  made  up  of  memories  and  associations  local  to 
the  soil  where  we  began  our  existence — a  natural  affection, 
which  has  in  it  not  one  element  of  a  religious  quality. 
Were  I  asked  to  describe  that  love  of  country  which  is 
engrafted  upon  a  religious  stock,  that  compound  affection 
which  is  illustrated  in  the  inspired  ode,  used  once  and 
intended  to  be  used  always  in  public  national  worship,  I 
should  say,  first  of  all,  that  it  implies  an  intelligent  com- 
prehension of  one's  country  as  related  to  Supreme  Provi- 
dence, to  the  development  of  His  historic  plan,  with 
reference  to  redemption  and  His  one  immortal  kingdom. 
That  which  we  have  found  to  be  wise  in  regard  to  our 
personal  life  and  duty — fix  the  centre  from  which  all  acts 
should  proceed  and  to  which  all  acts  should  return — we 
are  told  is  wisdom  concerning  the  life  of  nations  and  the 
dramatic  history  of  the  world.  This  world  does  not 
swing  in  empty  space,  a  dead,  iron  pendulum  ;  God  is  its 
Author,  and  Governor,  and  Life  ;  and  all  things,  past, 
present,  and  future  of  our  globe,  are  ordained  in  the  in- 
terest and  for  the  promotion  of  the  kingdom  of  his  Son. 
On  a  ten-inch  globe  or  map  representing  our  earth,  you 
do  not  expect  to  find  every  lane  of  a  city,  or  every  creek 
of  the  country,  but  only  a  general  outline  of  the  world's 
configuration.  We  are  not  competent  to  decide  upon 
every  event,  minute  and  episodical,  how  it  is  related  to 
the  grand  unity  of  history,  but  we  do  know,  because  in- 
structed by  divine  infallibility,  that  all  things  were  made 
by  Christ  and  for  Christ  j  that  He  who  ruleth  among  the 
nations  lifteth  up  one  and  casteth  down  another,  with 
reference  to  that  kingdom  which  is  everlasting  and  to 
that  dominion  which  endureth  throughout  all  generations. 


Christian  Patriotism.  235 

It  is  the  root  and  foundation  of  our  belief,  that  all  the 
scenes  of  life's  theatre  are  shifted  with  reference  to  the 
one  drama  which  defines  the  object  of  the  world's  crea- 
tion. It  is  on  this  root  that  our  patriotism  is  grafted,  and 
from  this  vital  sap  that  it  draws  its  sustenance.  The 
love  of  our  country  grows  intense,  when  we  measure  our 
nationality  as  related  to  that  kingdom  of  Christ  which  is 
paramount,  permanent,  and  universal.  The  Bible,  in  its 
historic  parts,  instructs  us  how  the  true  life  of  all  nations, 
from  the  beginning,  was  ordered  in  connection  with  the 
advent  of  Him  who  was  the  Desire  and  Hope  of  the 
world.  This  historic  chain  was  not  broken  when  revela- 
tion was  closed,  nor  was  Christ's  rule  over  the  nations 
terminated,  when  the  pages  of  the  Apocalypse  were 
ended.  He  reigns  now — and  will  reign  forever.  And 
this  land  of  ours — its  peculiar  nationality — both  are  dear 
to  us,  more  dear  than  words  can  express,  because  the 
product  of  historic  forces  in  which  we  see  and  adore  the 
hand  of  our  Lord.  To  enhance  the  estimate  of  our  na- 
tionality— we  would  repeat  the  brave  chronicles  of  the 
past ;  we  would  lead  you  through  the  long  galleries  of 
recorded  events,  good  and  great ;  recall  reformations  and 
revolutions  which  had  a  soul  in  them  because  born  of 
love  and  duty  and  right :  we  would  tell  of  up-heavings  in 
the  old  world,  of  religious  assertions  and  religious  lib- 
erty ;  our  own  continent  shut  out  and  reserved  till  the 
right  crisis ;  the  exodus  of  our  ancestry  inspired  and 
guided  by  an  educated  religious  conscience  \  of  the  melt- 
ing away  and  disappearance  of  savage  tribes — the  pos- 
session of  a  new  hemisphere  by  a  new  order  of  men  ;  of 
a  church  ransomed  and  free  from  all  political  alliance — a 


236  Thanksgiving. 

church  reformed  and  untrammelled  in  soul  and  limb  ;  of 
liberty  regulated  by  law ;  of  institutions  established  by 
the  people  for  self-government,  self-protection,  and  self- 
improvement.  We  would  repeat  the  old  but  never  stale  or 
wearisome  story  of  the  Constitution,  the  Union,  our  great 
and  blessed  nationality  :  as  the  fire  kindles  at  the  memo- 
ries of  the  past  and  the  hopes  of  the  future — hopes  iden- 
tified with  civilization,  liberty,  and  religion  throughout 
the  earth — hopes  which  are  the  fruits  of  a  long,  long,  and 
patient  growth — the  purchase  of  a  vast  and  costly  price, — 
standing  on  this  high  summit,  we  find  no  place  nor  pos- 
sibility for  despondency  \  in  possession  of  such  a  heri- 
tage, there  cannot  be  a  thought  of  throwing  it  away,  or 
allowing  it  to  be  torn  from  us,  or  pausing  to  ask  what  it  is 
worth,  for  it  is  above  all  price ;  and  so  our  patriotism, 
inspired  and  interpenetrated  by  our  religion,  takes  up  its 
cheerful  Psalm  :  "  Peace  be  within  thy  walls,  and  prosper- 
ity within  thy  palaces  :  because  of  the  house  of  the  Lord 
our  God  I  will  seek  thy  good." 

And  it  is  in  this  connection,  in  this  chain  of  provi- 
dential events,  that  we  would  religiously  recall  and  honor 
the  name  and  services  of  that  great  and  good  man  who, 
by  common  consent,  is  recognized  as  the  father  of  his 
country — the  first  President  of  our  Republic,  the  founder 
and  the  representative  of  our  free  institutions.  It  is  no 
common  eulogium  on  such  a  man,  that  you  cannot  speak 
of  his  magnanimous  patriotism,  nor  recall  his  words  of 
warning  and  wisdom  at  the  beginning  and  at  the  end  of 
his  public  services,  more  especially  the  "  pathos,  grand- 
eur, and  parental  love  "  of  his  Farewell  Address,  when, 
like  Moses  at  Pisgah,  with  a  bright  vision  of  the  future 


Christian  Patriotism. 


237 


of  his  country,  he  gave  his  Deuteronomic  counsels ;  you 
cannot  do  this  without  consciously  or  unconsciously  fram- 
ing a  lesson,  the  very  best  for  any  times  through  which 
we  are  passing.  We  deprecate  every  thing  which  approx- 
imates to  hero-worship,  or  exalting  man  as  our  trust  and 
law ;  but  we  would  shun,  also,  with  earnest  care,  every 
thing  like  indifference  to  the  gifts  of  God,  especially  the 
lives  of  men  good  and  great,  men  of  Providence,  as  they 
may  be  called,  designed  to  be  lights  in  the  world,  and 
safe  interpreters  of  duty.  Here  is  a  name  identified 
with  our  nationality  ;  a  name  which  never  can  be  divided 
and  subdivided  into  parcels  to  be  distributed  among  dis- 
membered States ;  the  common  property  of  the  whole 
nation,  and  the  symbol  of  that  spirit  by  which  our  na- 
tionality must  be  preserved  and  perpetuated.  We  can- 
not recite  the  story  now  in  detail ;  our  children  know  it 
already,  and  their  children  and  children's  children  will 
not  forget  it ;  for  in  his  life  and  services,  history  had 
reached  a  new  epoch,  humanity  a  new  development.  I 
have  said  already,  that  a  recital  of  what  he  was,  and  said, 
and  did,  was  in  itself  a  discourse  for  the  times.  The 
story  of  his  peculiar  training,  the  qualities  of  the  strip- 
ling foreshadowing  the  virtues  of  the  man  ;  his  preserva- 
tion from  dangers  for  a  signal  service  for  his  country ; 
exemplifying  the  true  republican  virtue  of  the  olden  time ; 
offices  seeking  him,  and  he  never  seeking  office  for  him- 
self; honest,  patient,  and  magnanimous,  emulous  of 
saving  the  country  rather  than  winning  the  fame  of  a 
brilliant  soldier  ;  sure  to  win  by  Fabian  wisdom,  rather 
than  risk  every  thing  by  hurling  a  column  on  needless 
danger ;  practising  self-control  greater  than  the  taking  of 


238  Thanksgiving, 

cities,  when  misunderstood  and  well-nigh  sacrificed  by 
military  rivalry  and  political  cabals ;  showing  Christian 
greatness  in  a  willingness  to  serve  rather  than  an  ambi- 
tion to  rule ;  instructing  the  country  at  the  beginning  and 
at  the  end,  as  one  who  believed  and  felt  that  our  de- 
pendence was  on  Divine  Providence,  and  that  the  founda- 
tions of  our  institutions  were  laid  in  morality  and  relig- 
ion ;  emphasizing,  with  the  voice  of  a  Hebrew  Prophet 
or  Christian  Apostle,  the  philosophic  truth,  that  the  for- 
mer could  not  exist  without  the  sanctions  of  the  latter ; 
warning,  first  and  last,  against  party  spirit,  and  sectional 
jealousy,  and  geographical  preferences  ;  entreating,  as  a 
father  doth  his  children,  each  and  all,  by  mutual  forbear- 
ance, to  study  the  things  which  would  edify  the  whole  j — 
as  all  this  passes  in  review,  we  feel  the  glow  of  an  as- 
sured confidence  that  the  lesson  of  such  a  life  was  never 
intended  for  an  hour,  then  to  be  swallowed  up  in  chaos ; 
for  it  is  a  sign  and  pledge  of  a  future  deliverance  and 
greatness,  the  model  of  a  future  conformity.  Nor  can 
any  man  recount  a  tithe  of  such  a  record,  without  ex- 
claiming, Oh,  for  one  day  of  such  a  spirit  now  :  oh,  for 
one  pulse,  strong  and  brave,  throughout  this  whole  land, 
of  that  true,  loyal,  "  sweet,  cherished,  hereditary  "  Ameri- 
can sentiment  which  filled  his  honest  heart :  one  more 
Farewell  Address,  inspired  by  wisdom  and  love,  and  lis- 
tened to  by  all  the  people  throughout  all  our  borders, 
in  reverent  gratitude,  ere  he  passed  from  the  sight  of 
man. 

"  Being  dead,  he  still  speaketh ; "  and  the  gift  of  such 
a  Moses  is  itself  a  pledge  for  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
those  principles  which  were  represented  and  inculcated 


Christian  Patriotism.  239 

in  his  life.  We  delude  no  man  with  the  false  promise  of 
a  smooth,  speedy,  and  easy  vindication  of  our  nationality. 
Every  reason  have  we  to  suppose  that  it  will  be  with  us 
as  with  the  people  of  Israel,  in  their  education  for  their 
high  destiny.  They  expected  a  quick  and  a  short  passage 
into  the  land  of  promise.  So  have  we.  They  were  im- 
patient of  obstacles  and  murmured  aloud  because  of 
delays.  So  have  we.  They  were  to  be  forged  and 
hammered  into  shape  and  strength.  So  are  we.  There 
are  enemies,  many  and  strong,  hanging  on  our  flank  and 
rear;  there  is  a  sea,  deep  and  wide,  stretching  itself 
across  our  path ;  Miriam  and  Aaron,  the  brother  and 
sister  of  the  nation's  head,  have  proved  disloyal,  detach- 
ing themselves  from  their  true  leader ;  the  High  Priest 
himself  has  joined  in  with  idolatries  by  which  a  host  have 
been  seduced ;  Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram  have  incited 
a  multitude  of  the  people  into  bold  rebellion ;  the  waters 
which  once  were  for  refreshment  have  been  turned  into 
bitterness  j  Balaam  has  been  summoned  in  God's  name 
to  curse  Israel ;  spies  have  come  back  bearing  an  evil 
report  to  intimidate  and  deter,  by  false  stories  of  giant 
foes  and  high  fortresses : — but  above  us,  around  us,  be- 
hind us,  is  a  Power  mightier  than  all,  bearing  us  onwards, 
always  onwards,  in  suffering  and  chastisement,  onwards 
still,  towards  a  promise  which  God  has  given.  That 
household  murmuring  and  disloyalty  will  be  shamed  and 
punished,  even  though  it  be  not  by  the  curse  of  leprosy ; 
that  idolatry  will  be  repressed  and  reformed,  and  they 
who  have  practised  it  will  be  made  to  drink  the  ashes  of 
the  calf  they  have  worshipped ;  that  rebellion  led  on  by 
the  very  kinsman  of  Moses  will  be  subdued  \  some  divine 


240  Thanksgiving. 

branch  of  sweetness  will  be  cast  into  the  bitter  fountains 
of  Meribah  j  Balaam,  in  spite  of  himself,  will  be  compelled 
to  utter  a  blessing  instead  of  a  curse — "  How  goodly  are 
thy  tents,  O  Jacob,  and  thy  tabernacles,  O  Israel ; "  the 
disheartening  report  of  the  spies  will  be  stilled  by  the 
strong  voice  of  Caleb,  saying,  "  Let  us  go  up  at  once 
and  possess  it,  for  we  are  well  able  to  overcome  it ;"  and 
though  there  is  between  us  and  the  promised  possession, 
a  river,  deeper,  swifter,  redder  than  the  Jordan ;  though  the 
time  be  long  and  weary,  even  many  years  j  though  Moses 
and  Aaron  may  die,  and  many  a  soldier  and  priest  may 
not  see  that  for  which  he  has  fought  and  prayed ;  though 
a  whole  generation,  because  of  their  unbelief,  shall  be 
buried  in  the  wilderness  ; — yet  that  river  will  be  crossed, 
and  the  nation  will  go  over  dry-shod,  bearing  the  ark  of 
God  with  them  j  and  on  the  other  side,  the  wilderness 
behind  them,  that  vindicated  nationality,  that  Christian 
Imperialism,  will  rear  its  monuments  with  the  very  stones 
taken  out  of  the  flood,  and  all  the  hills  and  valleys  shall 
echo  the  songs  of  peace  and  universal  thanks  to  God 
Almighty. 

A  very  defective  notion  of  religious  patriotism  should 
I  present,  if  I  failed  to  say  that  the  very  tap-root  of  all 
Christian  love  for  the  country,  is  a  principle  of  obedience 
to  God.  In  stating  the  truth  on  this  part  of  my  subject, 
we  come  in  contact  immediately  with  that  question  which 
defines  the  issue  now  before  our  country  in  this  critical 
hour,  involving  not  our  welfare  alone,  but  inevitably  the 
peace  and  welfare  of  the  whole  world.  That  question 
relates  to  the  duty  of  citizens  to  the  civil  government  of 
the  country ;  a  subject  so  important  as  to  be  made  the 


Christian  Patriotism.  241 

topic  of  frequent  teachings  by  the  Christian  Apostles. 
The  doctrine  of  the  New  Testament  is  briefly  this : 
Government  is  an  ordinance  of  God.  It  comes  not  by 
chance ;  it  is  not  an  invention  of  man ;  but  an  absolute 
necessity  ordained  by  the  Almighty,  and  as  such  is  to  be 
obeyed.  "  The  powers  that  be  are  ordained  by  God," 
and  whosoever  resisteth  this  power  resisteth  the  ordi- 
nance of  God.  So  essential  to  the  existence  of  society 
is  government,  in  some  form,  that  as  religious  men  we 
are  required  by  inspired  authority  to  be  subject  to  it,  not 
only  "  from  wrath  "  and  compulsion,  but  for  conscience- 
sake — through  the  power  of  a  religious  principle. 

This  doctrine  of  the  Christian  Scriptures  is  not  for  a 
moment  to  be  confounded  with  those  monstrous  preten- 
sions of  tyrants,  which  allow  no  kind  of  protest  against 
wrong,  and  forbid  all  attempts  to  reform  and  improve 
government  itself  by  proper  modes.  Christian  principles 
there  are  which,  in  certain  cases,  justify  and  necessitate 
the  substituting  of  one  form  of  government  for  another ; 
and  all  admit  that  there  have  been  revolutions,  and  may 
be  again,  which  are  sanctioned  by  religion.  But  no  one 
of  whom  I  ever  heard,  has  ever  pretended  that  the  govern- 
ment established  by  the  common  consent  of  the  country, 
benignant,  just,  and  gentle,  as  we  have  thought  it,  was  so 
despotic  in  its  sway,  so  utterly  subversive  of  all  the  ends 
for  which  government  is  instituted,  or  so  stricken  through 
and  through  with  evils  mortal  to  social  order,  that  it  be- 
came a  necessity  imposed  by  benevolence  and  religion, 
that  it  should  be  violently  overturned. 

There  has  sprung  up  in  our  country — and  the  mischief 
is  not  confined  to  any  one  parallel  of  latitude  or  longitude — 
11 


242  Thanksgiving. 

— a  doctrine  assuming  the  specious  name  of  "ultimate 
convictions," — which,  reduced  to  simpler  terms,  means  the 
opinions  and  preferences  of  individuals — which  claims  to 
be  superior  to  all  civil  law,  an  authority  higher  than  the 
constituted  government  of  the  country.  There  is  a  law 
of  conscience — I  speak  of  conscience  well  instructed, 
a  dial  set  on  a  true  meridian  to  the  sun — which  never 
should  be  treated  with  a  slight.  Whenever  human  gov- 
ernments require  that  of  any  man  which  an  intelligent, 
honest,  religious  conscience  pronounces  to  be  wrong  in 
the  sight  of  God,  the  conduct  of  the  Christian  Apostles 
instructs  him  how  to  shape  and  decide  his  conduct.  If 
his  testimony  for  truth  compels  disobedience  to  the  civil 
authority,  he  must  bear  the  reproach  of  God  patiently  and 
firmly  ;  taking  the  consequences  of  his  fidelity — suffering 
and  death — upon  himself  in  proof  of  his  constancy  to  truth ; 
knowing  that  his  martyrdom  will  be  the  means  by  which 
that  truth  will  ultimately  prevail.  But  no  citizen  is  justi- 
fied, on  Christian  principles,  in  being  a  seditionist ;  striv- 
ing to  overthrow  God's  ordinance  in  government,  simply 
for  the  gratification  of  his  personal  preference  or  passion. 
For  consider,  if  the  will,  conviction,  partiality  of  one  indi- 
vidual is  to  be  his  supreme  law,  then  the  will  and  convic- 
tion of  his  neighbor,  which  are  diametrically  opposite  to 
his  own,  are  ultimate  authority  to  him  j  and  who  shall 
arbitrate  between  them  ?  What  shall  prevent  violent 
shocks  and  collisions?  Your  political  thesis  resolves 
itself  into  this  :  "  every  man  does  what  is  right  in  his  own 
eyes."  Society  is  at  once  dissolved  into  anarchy,  and 
physical  strength  alone  decides  who  and  what  shall  be 
ascendant.     We  cannot  magnify  unduly  this  ordinance 


Christian  Patriotism. 


of  God,  a  benignant  government  for  our  protection  : 
there  is  nothing  at  this  hour  between  us  and  the  surges 
of  an  angry  ocean,  but  the  Constitution  which  we  have 
accepted  as  framed,  adopted,  and  transmitted  by  our 
fathers.  We  have  launched  our  earthly  all  upon  the  ex- 
periment of  self-government,  believing  that  govemments 
are  for  the  good  of  the  people,  and  not  the  people  for  the 
pleasure  and  profit  of  the  government.  There  is  no  need 
of  inquiring  into  the  original  condition  of  the  contracting 
parties ;  we  need  not  confuse  ourselves  with  theories 
concerning  the  sovereignty  of  the  several  States ;  since 
the  people  of  all  these  separate  communities,  with  wonder- 
ful unanimity,  framed  to  themselves  a  certain  form  for 
the  administration  of  government — "for  a  more  perfect 
union,  to  establish  justice,  insure  domestic  tranquillity, 
provide  for  the  common  defence,  promote  the  general 
welfare,  and  secure  the  blessings  of  liberty  " — compacted 
themselves  by  a  solemn  agreement  and  covenant,  estab- 
lished it  in  good  faith,  and  confirmed  it  by  provisions  and 
oaths  ;  a  form  of  government  never  claiming  to  be  perfect, 
but  self-adjusting,  presenting  the  mode  of  its  own  safe 
and  pacific  correction,  through  the  legal  and  orderly 
processes  of  legislation,  judiciary,  and  convention,  by 
which  needful  changes  should  be  made,  and  wrongs  re- 
dressed, and  improvements  accomplished  ;  and  surely  we 
shall  search  long  before  we  find  any  ethical  rule  which  can 
justify  any  party,  however  free  and  sovereign  they  may 
claim  to  be,  breaking  away  from  a  compact  into  which 
they  freely  entered,  simply  on  the  ground  of  disgust  with 
the  result  of  a  popular  election,  which  they  themselves  had 
ordered  to  be  held,  and  into  which  they  had  themselves 


244  Thanksgiving. 

entered  as  active  participants.  The  question  thrust  upon 
us,  is,  not  whether  we  can  consent  to  the  loss  of  a  certain 
portion  of  our  national  domain ;  but  whether  we  can,  or 
ought  to,  consent  to  the  destruction  of  our  national  exist- 
ence. If  a  chain  composed  of  many  links  is  broken  in 
one  place,  it  may  be  in  another,  and  soon  it  will  be 
detached  into  as  many  parts  as  there  were  links  in  its 
first  composition  ;  and,  this  principle  admitted,  I  see  not 
what  can  save  us  from  universal  dissolution  and  chaos. 
I  have  revolved  it  much  and  long,  in  study  by  day  and 
in  watches  of  the  night,  and  I  cannot  solve  the  problem, 
how,  with  such  a  doctrine  of  private  preference,  and  ulti- 
mate convictions,  protruded,  allowed,  and  armed,  we  can 
ever  be  saved  from  the  horrors  which  drenched  the  soil 
of  France  in  blood,  and  rocked  it  to  and  fro  with  explosive 
revolutions.  So  that,  in  the  providence  of  God,  we  are 
thrown  back  inevitably  upon  the  maintenance  of  our 
nationality,  not  in  pride  or  ambition,  but  for  self-pre- 
servation— the  only  barrier  which  keeps  out  the  waves  of 
the  sea  j  and  thus  our  patriotism  draws  its  vigor  at  last 
from  the  law  of  obedience  to  God. 

All  collateral  issues  aside,  biding  their  own  place  and 
time,  the  question  which  we  are  called  to  settle,  not  for 
ourselves  only,  but  for  a  waiting  and  troubled  world,  is 
the  possibility  of  a  self-governed  nationality.  Our  failure 
has  been  predicted  ;  by  many  desired  ;  some  have  laughed 
at  our  institutions,  saying,  if  a  fox  should  but  scale  the 
wall,  it  would  tumble.  Meanwhile,  with  God's  favor,  our 
experiment  has  worked  so  well,  and  prospered  so  wonder- 
fully, that  it  has  reacted  prodigiously  on  the  Old  World ; 
reforms  have  been  begotten  of  our  success ;  and  hoary 


Christian  Patriotism.  245 

despotisms  have  acknowledged  and  feared  the  effect  of 
our  institutions.  There  is  not  a  crowned  head  in  the 
world  who  has  not  heard  the  name  of  Washington,  nor 
any  people  struggling  for  freedom  who  have  not  been 
cheered  and  encouraged  by  our  example.  Fond  hopes 
would  die  all  over  the  earth,  if  the  experiment  we  have 
commenced  should  end  so  soon  in  disaster.  Freedom 
would  shriek  in  despair,  if  it  should  prove  that  our  vast 
nationality  had  been  dissolved,  to  gratify  the  will  and 
ambition  of  an  oligarchy.  Every  motive  of  self-preserva- 
tion, of  humanity,  of  liberty,  of  religion,  compels  us  to  a 
most  earnest  expression  of  loyalty.  We  must  honor 
Government ;  we  must  stand  firm  on  our  Constitution,  as 
the  only  security  of  property,  freedom,  and  life.  It  is  no 
time,  when  a  ship  is  in  mid-ocean,  and  struck  by  a  hurri- 
cane, to  attempt  to  take  her  to  pieces  and  rebuild  her  on 
another  model.  Now  is  the  time  to  prove  the  strength 
of  her  timbers,  and,  by  our  brave  deportment,  to  show  our 
confidence  in  our  institutions  and  our  God.  "Let  us 
gird  up  the  loins  of  our  minds,  be  sober,  and  hope  unto 
the  end."  These  inspired  words  well  describe  the  temper 
by  which,  in  such  a  time,  we  should  be  governed ;  firm- 
ness, sobriety,  and  hope.  It  is  sad  to  see  the  sufferings, 
anguish,  bereavements,  and  deaths  of  the  hour ;  but  it 
makes  us  sadder  still  to  think  of  the  future,  if  our  failure 
should  entail  on  coming  generations  transmitted  hos- 
tilities, strifes,  and  woes.  If  the  principle  for  which  we 
are  called  to  testify  is  good  and  right  and  religious,  then 
its  vindication  is  worth  all  which  it  may  cost.  The  suf- 
fering we  endure,  because  of  it,  is  the  price  we  pay  in  its 
honor.     Our  duty  is  stern  and  solemn,  but  how  can  we 


246  Thanksgiving. 

avoid  it  ?  It  is  Brutus  delivering  his  own  sons  unto  death, 
for  the  honor  of  law  and  magistracy.  It  is  Abraham 
offering  up  Isaac  at  the  summons  of  God.  It  is  Jephtha 
sacrificing  his  own  daughter,  kissing  her  fondly  as  he  con- 
signs her  to  doom,  exclaiming : 

"  I  could  not  love  thee,  child,  so  much, 
Loved  I  not  Honor  more." 

It  is  the  Christian  law  of  vicarious  suffering,  according 
to  which,  all  which  is  good  and  valuable  is  made  sure 
only  by  the  endurance  of  mediatory  pains.  If  great  truths 
are  to  be  wrought  out  of  our  history,  for  the  good  of  the 
world,  the  world  must  see  how  high  an  estimate  is  placed 
on  them,  by  God  and  man,  in  the  degree  of  suffering 
which  is  borne,  in  cheerful  trust,  for  the  sake  of  their 
vindication.  Every  thing  small,  selfish,  corrupt,  must  be 
consumed  out  of  us  so  as  by  fire.  "  As  many  as  I  love  I 
chasten,"  says  He  who  is  Lord  of  the  Church  and  King 
over  the  Nations.  We  may  not  prove  ourselves  worthy 
of  immediate  success ;  the  tide  which  seems  to  be  rolling 
in  and  onwards  may  surge  backwards  for  a  season ;  but 
truth  will  only  gather  force  for  a  later  swing ;  the  difference 
between  right  and  wrong  is  essential,  and  God  is  pledged 
to  the  final  triumph  of  the  one,  and  the  defeat  of  the 
other  j  and  we  cannot  have  a  firmer  basis  of  confidence 
than  this.  Our  wisdom,  our  duty,  it  is,  to  draw  motives 
of  conduct,  not  from  the  fluctuating  events  of  the  clay, 
but  from  eternal  verities,  the  stability  of  that  Kingdom 
which  never  can  be  moved.  It  were  easier  to  think  of 
swinging  the  Alleghanies  on  their  base,  dividing  the 
continent  in  another  direction  ;  of  turning  the  great  rivers 


Christian  Patriotism.  i^rj 

of  our  land  about,  so  as  to  run  to  another  point  of  the 
compass,  than  to  imagine  the  overthrow  of  those  great 
laws  which  involve  the  ultimate  welfare  of  our  race,  in 
the  eternal  kingdom  of  the  Redeemer.  That  kingdom  is 
not  the  mere  decoration  and  support  of  governments  and 
nations  j  but  governments,  nationalities,  law,  liberty,  all 
things  sublunary,  are  for  the  never-ending  and  illimitable 
Kingdom  of  our  Lord.  Here,  then,  have  we  a  standing- 
place,  high  and  strong.  The  floods  may  lift  up  their 
waves,  but  the  Lord  God  Omnipotent  reigneth.  Parts 
of  His  ways  He  has  disclosed,  to  guide  our  feet  and  con- 
firm our  faith.  Patriotism  is  inspired  by  religion.  Be- 
cause of  the  house  of  the  Lord  our  God,  we  seek  the  good 
of  our  native  land.  We  will  honor  God,  and  all  His  ordi- 
nances. We  will  pray  for  His  protection,  and  seek  for  His 
blessing  j  grateful  for  what  He  has  done  for  our  fathers, 
we  will  seek  His  favor  on  us  and  our  children.  Guided 
by  His  word,  cheered  by  His  promises,  we  will  continue 
our  march,  hoping  unto  the  end ;  knowing,  beyond  a 
doubt,  that  the  world,  under  the  power  of  its  Maker,  is 
rolling  on  towards  universal  love,  peace,  liberty,  harmony, 
and  joy.  Nor  is  this  a  blind  confidence,  for  God  is  with 
us  only  as  we  are  with  Him.  And  they  who  live  in  later 
ages  of  time,  will  take  up  the  very  Psalm  which  we  chant 
to-day,  and  sing  it  with  a  thousand-fold  better  conception 
of  its  real  meaning  • — delight  in  God,  and  in  the  land 
which  the  Lord  our  God  giveth  us. 

Our  feet  shall  stand  within  thy  gates,  O  Jeru- 
salem. 

Jerusalem  is  builded  as  a  city  that  is  compact 
together \ 


Thanksgiving. 


Whither  the  tribes  go  up,  the  tribes  of  the 
Lord,  unto  the  testimony  of  Israel,  to  give  thanks 
unto  the  name  of  the  lord. 

Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem:  they  shall 
prosper  that  love  thee. 

Peace  be  within  thy  walls,  and  prosperity  with- 
in THY  PALACES. 

For  my  brethren  and  companions'  sakes,  I  will 
now  say,  Peace  be  within  thee.  Because  of  the 
house  of  the  lord  our  god,  i  will  seek  thy  good. 


LULL    IN    THE    STORM. 


And  while  the  day  was  coming  on,  Paul  besought  them  all  to 
take  meat,  saying  :  This  day  is  the  fourteenth  day  that  ye  have  tar- 
ried and  continued  fasting,  having  taken  nothing.  Wherefore  I  pray 
you  to  take  some  meat ;  for  this  is  for  your  health  :  for  there  shall 
not  a  hair  fall  from  the  head  of  any  of  you.  And  when  he  had  thus 
spoken,  he  took  bread,  and  gave  thanks  to  God  in  presence  of  them 
all  ;  and  when  he  had  broken  it,  he  began  to  eat.  Then  were  they 
all  of  good  cheer,  and  they  also  took  some  meat. 

Acts  27 :  33-36. 


11* 


XII. 

LULL     IN     THE     STORM. 

In  the  first  Book  of  the  Eneid  we  have  a  description, 
in  Virgil's  liveliest  manner,  of  a  furious  storm  on  the  sea, 
by  which  the  hero  of  his  epic,  with  all  his  fleet,  was 
brought  nigh  to  destruction.  Eolus  and  all  his  crew  of 
winds  had  broken  loose  from  their  cave  of  rocks,  and 
lashed  the  sea  into  foam ;  nothing  could  stand  before 
their  boisterous  rage  ;  the  seams  of  the  ship  yawned,  the 
oars  snapped ;  some  of  the  vessels  fell  over  into  the 
trough  of  the  sea,  and  arms,  furniture,  and  men,  washed 
overboard,  were  drifting  about  in  the  yeasty  surf;  when, 
suddenly,  Neptune  lifts  his  placid  head  out  of  the  deep, 
surveys  the  scene,  sends  back  the  winds  to  their  prison, 
puts  to  rest  the  stormy  billows,  disperses  the  congregated 
clouds,  brings  back  the  sun,  and  creates  a  bright  and 
blessed  calm ;  even  as  when  sedition  rages  in  a  great 
city — this  is  the  poet's  own  illustration — and  a  mob  is 
raging  through  the  streets,  and  stones  and  clubs  are 
flying  through  the  air,  if  by  chance  they  should  see  some 
man,  remarkable  for  his  benevolence  and  wisdom,  in- 
stantly they  are  still,  giving  him  their  attention,  while  he 
soothes  their  passions  and  counsels  them  to  peace.     This 


252  Thanksgiving. 

poetic  scene  not  inaptly  illustrates  the  effect  produced  on 
all  our  minds  by  the  return  of  this  halcyon  day  of  our 
American  calendar.*  It  finds  us  in  mid-ocean,  contend- 
ing with  angry  gales  and  surges.  We  are  conversant 
with  the  perils,  the  passions,  the  burdens,  and  the  sorrows 
of  a  protracted  war.  Yet  such  are  the  memories  and 
associations  connected  with  the  clay,  that  we  are  not  sur- 
prised to  find  the  wondrous  effect  it  has  in  hushing  us 
into  tranquillity  and  making  us  happy.  Frequent  are  the 
occasions  when  fasting  and  lamentation  are  most  becom- 
ing. Happy  for  us  that  such  days  have  been  observed 
by  our  ancestors,  with  a  degree  of  earnestness  and  pa- 
tience that  surprises  us,  their  degenerate  offspring.  The 
learned  Lightfoot  has  left  us  a  record  of  the  manner  in 
which  a  Fast-Day  was  observed  by  the  parliamentary 
Assembly  of  divines  to  which  he  was  attached  during  the 
civil  wars  of  England.  "This  day,"  writes  he,  "we  kept 
solemn  fast  in  the  place  where  our  sitting  is,  and  no  one 
with  us  but  ourselves,  the  Scotch  Commissions,  and  some 
parliament  men.  First,  Mr.  Wilson  gave  a  picked  psalm, 
or  selected  verses  of  several  psalms,  agreeing  to  the  time 
and  occasion.  Then  Dr.  Burgess  prayed  about  an  hour ; 
after  he  had  done,  Mr.  Whittacre  preached  upon  Isa. 
37  :  3,  '  This  day  is  a  day  of  trouble.'  Then,  having  had 
another  chosen  psalm,  Mr.  Goodwin  prayed  ;  and  after 
he  had  done,  Mr.  Palmer  preached  upon  Ps.  25  :  12. 

*  Written  in  the  year  1864 — the  gloomiest  period  of  the  war. 
In  accordance  with  a  felicitous  suggestion,  arrangements  were  made 
for  a  special  observance  of  the  annual  Thanksgiving,  that  autumn, 
by  the  whole  army,  supplies  most  generous  and  abundant  being  sent 
to  all  the  camps,  by  citizens  at  home. 


Lull  in  the  Storm.  253 

After  whose  -sermon  we  had  another  psalm,  and  Dr. 
Stanton  prayed  about  an  hour,  and  with  another  psalm, 
and  a  prayer  of  the  prolocutor,  and  a  collection  for  the 
maimed  soldiers,  which  arose  to  about  £l  i$s,  we  ad- 
journed till  the  morrow  morning."*  This, indeed,  might 
be  called  "laboring  in  word  and  doctrine."  "  Other  men 
labored,  and  we  have  entered  into  their  labors."  If  there 
are  times  which  call  for  depletion  and  humiliation,  there 
are  other  times  which  demand  cordials  to  stimulate, 
refreshments  to  strengthen.  What  a  beautiful  incident 
was  that,  when  the  apostle  Paul,  himself  a  prisoner  for 
Christ's  sake,  stood  on  the  deck  of  a  drifting  ship,  in  the 
stormy  Adriatic,  when  "  neither  sun  nor  stars  in  many 
days  had  appeared,  and  no  small  tempest  lay  on  them, 
and  all  hope  that  they  should  be  saved  was  taken* away, 
and  there  had  been  long  abstinence  from  food,  even  fast- 
ing for  fourteen  days  " — and  addressed  the  crew  in  these 
words  :  "  Sirs,  ye  should  have  hearkened  unto  me,  and 
not  have  loosed  from  Crete,  and  to  have  gained  this  harm 
and  loss.  And  now  I  exhort  you  to  be  of  good  cheer,  and 
take  some  meat,  for  this  is  for  your  health  •  for  there  shall 
not  a  hair  fall  from  the  head  of  any  of  you."  And  when 
he  had  thus  spoken,  he  took  bread,  and  gave  thanks  to 
God,  in  presence  of  them  all.  He  whose  counsel  had 
been  despised,  he,  in  that  black  and  tempestuous  night, 
the  ship  pitching  arid  rolling,  giving  thanks  to  God,  in  the 
presence  of  those  despairing  men,  and  persuading  them 
to  take  food  and  be  of  good  cheer  ! 

Precisely  this  is  what  we  are  invited  to  do  by  the  ap- 

*  Lardner's  Works,  vol.  13,  p.  19- 


254  Thanksgiving. 

pointment  of  this  day.  It  is  a  festival  of-  gratitude,  in 
the  lull  of  a  storm ;  and  we  intend  to  take  meat,  give 
thanks,  and  be  of  good  cheer.  A  smile  comes  to-day 
over  the  grim  visage  of  war.  The  camp  is  converted 
into  a  domestic  festival.  The  homestead  sends  of  its 
plenty  to  the  soldier  in  tent  and  trench.  Let  the  hand 
loosen  its  grip,  for  a  few  hours,  on  sword  and  musket, 
and  the  snow-white  flag  float  from  every  dwelling  and 
every  church,  while  for  one  day  a  whole  nation  devotes 
itself  to  the  delightful  occupation  of  fostering  and  ex- 
pressing sincere  gratitude  to  Almighty  God. 

To  be  thankful  and  happy  when  all  is  propitious  and 
peaceful,  implies  nothing  to  our  credit.  The  great  art  is 
to  be  cheerful  and  hopeful  when  affairs  appear  to  be  in 
perplexity  and  gloom.  Among  the  many  fantastic  con- 
ceptions of  our  most  prolific  modern  writer,  Mr.  Dickens, 
is  a  character  whose  passion  it  was  to  meet  with  troubles 
and  disasters  sufficiently  serious  to  give  something  really 
creditable  to  the  habit,  on  his  part,  of  an  irrepressible 
merriment.  Once,  according  to  the  author,  he  was  on 
the  eve  of  finding  what  had  been  his  ambition  for  a  long 
time.  That  was  when  he  emigrated  to  America,  and 
sought  a  new  home,  in  a  new  settlement,  on  one  of  our 
Western  rivers,  among  sharpers  and  dirty  politicians  and 
bilious  fevers  and  mud  and  bowie-knives  and  tobacco 
and  fogs  and  swamps  and  braggings,  and  American 
eagles  flying  sky-high,  and  men  sitting  about  as  if  their 
organs  of  observation  were  in  their  feet,  tavern-brawls, 
commendations  of  slavery,  bad  whisky,  and  a  lank, 
cadaverous,  yellow,  corpsy  population  who  would  insist 
on  calling  their  town  by  the  name  of  Eden — there  at  last 


Lull  in  the  Storm. 


2S5 


it  was  that  he  began  to  indulge  in  some  measure  of  self- 
complacency,  because  in  such  extremes  of  misery  he  was 
able  to  maintain  his  usual  overflow  of  animal  spirits. 
To  be  contented  in  the  midst  of  peace,  prosperity,  and 
abundance,  is  a  small  virtue.  The  absence  of  content- 
ment in  such  circumstances,  would,  indeed,  be  a  crime ; 
but  something  good  and  great  is  there,  when  a  weak 
mortal  wrestles,  through  the  live-long  night,  with  the 
angel  who  strives  to  give  him  a  fall,  continuing  his 
bravery,  even  when  the  sinews  of  his  strength  have  been 
withered,  and  compelling  the  mysterious  form  to  leave 
him  a  blessing,  ere  he  relaxes  his  hold. 

In  BoswelPs  Life  of  Johnson,  Mr.  Wilkes  is  introduced 
as  entertaining  a  company  with  the  description  of  a  ser- 
mon which  he  had  heard  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  in 
which  the  preacher  inveighed  with  the  utmost  vehemence, 
for  the  space  of  two  hours,  against  the  evils  of  luxury, 
when  there  were  not  more  than  three  pairs  of  shoes  in 
the  whole  congregation.  Appropriateness  is  the  foremost 
rule  of  successful  speech.  Instead  of  picturing  to  myself 
a  state  of  affairs  remote  and  unreal,  I  intend  to  keep  in 
mind  a  vivid  impression  of  the  actual  condition  of  our 
beloved  country.  Were  we  inclined  to  a  desponding  and 
discontented  temper,  we  might  find  material  enough  for 
complaint.  A  civil  war,  which  for  magnitude — the  extent 
of  territory  which  it  covers,  the  number  of  combatants  it 
involves — throws  into  shade  every  rival ;  a  national  debt 
rolling  up,  within  the  space  of  four  years,  to  a  sum  already 
equal  to  twice  the  number  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  our 
planet  ;  the  graves  which  have  been  crowded  with  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  the  most  vigorous  youth  of  the  con- 


256  Thanksgiving, 

tinent,  taken  from  the  arts  of  peace,  and  from  happy  homes 
to  a  red  and  hasty  burial  j  the  uncertainties  and  apprehen- 
sions which  still  attend  our  unadjusted  strifes  ;  all  these 
might  be  our  chosen  themes  till  our  hearts  were  wrung 
with  agony,  but  not  one  of  them  would  be  an  appropriate 
topic  for  a  day  of  gratitude,  save  as  we  can  discern  good 
evolved  out  of  evil,  the  blackest  clouds  unfolding  an  edge 
of  gold  and  crimson.  Vain  is  the  attempt  to  force  mirth- 
fulness  upon  those  who  cannot  forget  the  causes  of  grief 
and  apprehension  :  a  nobler  art  is  that  which,  confessing 
the  presence  of  great  sorrows,  can  infuse  into  them  the 
radiance  and  warmth  of  great  consolations,  and  by  a 
divine  alchemy  can  extract  material  for  gratitude  out  of 
the  very  dregs  of  bitterness.  Let  us  look  at  things,  not 
as  they  might  be,  not  as  we  wish  them  to  be,  but  just  as 
they  are,  in  their  complexity  of  good  and  evil,  sweet  and 
bitter  \  and  let  us  invite  the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  a 
people,  who,  in  the  very  throes  and  anguish  of  their  trials, 
have  more  to  excite  their  gratitude  than  any  other  nation 
beneath  the  smile  of  the  Autumn's  sun.  Though  our 
common  mother,  our  honored  country,  mourns  the  loss  of 
many  children,  she  is  not  to  us  like  Niobe,  petrified  in 
torpid  despair,  but,  like  many  a  mother  whom  we  have 
seen  exalted  and  ennobled  by  losses  and  trials,  more 
tender,  more  generous,  more  fertile  in  all  goodly  intentions 
towards  the  living,  by  reason  of  her  memories  of  those 
whom  she  has  buried.  We  need  not  for  a  moment  to  be 
puzzled  by  the  riddle  of  Samson  :  "  Out  of  the  eater  came 
forth  meat,  and  out  of  the  strong  came  forth  sweetness," 
for,  if  we  are  wise  to  know  and  prove  it,  bees  will  be 
seen  to  swarm  from  out  of  the  ribs  of  the   dead  lion, 


Lull  in  the  Storm. 


257 


making  honey  for  us  and  our  children,  sweeter  than  any 
from  the  "  thymy  heaths "  of  Hymettus.  Small  claims 
has  he  to  Christian  bravery,  who  rejoices  only  when  skies 
are  bright  and  tranquil.  "  I  will  sing  of  mercy  and  of 
judgment,"  said  the  Psalmist \  and  a  mind  properly  at- 
tuned to  their  harmony,  will  discern  material  for  religious 
joy  amid  the  severities  of  Providence. 

There  is  one  incident  in  Hebrew  history  which  serves 
as  a  warrant  for  a  special  observance  of  an  annual  festival 
in  "  troublous  times."  Nehemiah,  the  governor  of  Jeru- 
salem, was  as  little  inclined,  by  natural  disposition  and 
circumstances,  to  hilarity  as  any  man  that  could  be  named. 
The  leader  of  an  expedition  designed  to  rebuild  the  pros- 
trate city,  he  was  perplexed  with  care  and  trouble.  San- 
ballat  and  Tobiah,  the  leaders  of  a  rival  and  unfriendly 
colony,  after  they  had  tried  taunts  and  insults,  formed  a 
confederacy  with  the  Arabians  and  Ammonites,  and  took 
up  arms  against  the  patriotic  band  who  were  fortifying 
Jerusalem.  As  if  these  foreign  stratagems  and  assaults 
were  not  trouble  enough,  the  governor  was  pestered  by 
dishonorable  and  traitorous  persons  in  the  city,  who  took 
advantage  of  the  public  distress  to  exact  usury,  and  make 
exorbitant  contracts.  In  these  depressing  circumstances, 
the  wise  ruler,  fearing  that  the  people  would  be  disheart- 
ened, determined  to  try  the  effect  of  a  little  recreation 
and  festivity.  It  seemed  to  him  that  they  would  all  be 
the  better  for  unstrapping  the  load  of  care,  and  invigo- 
rating themselves  with  the  sweet  cordial  of  religious  joy. 
So  this  care-worn  official  issued  a  proclamation  for  a  fes- 
tival. Pie  bade  the  people  to  drop  trowel  and  spear, 
provide  themselves  with  branches  of  the  pine,  the  palm, 


258  Thanksgiving. 

and  the  myrtle,  and  enjoy  a  little  season  of  cheerfulness 
and  charity,  hospitality  and  thanksgiving.  "  Go  your 
way,  eat  the  fat,  and  drink  the  sweet,  and  send  portions 
unto  them  for  whom  nothing  is  prepared  :  for  this  day  is 
holy  unto  our  Lord  :  neither  be  ye  sorry  :  for  the  joy 
of  the  Lord  is  your  strength."  This  proclamation 
was  issued  on  the  eve  of  the  "  Feast  of  Tabernacles," 
and  was  intended  to  reestablish  that  ancient  festival. 
This  was  originally  of  divine  institution ;  it  had  been 
long  and  happily  observed  by  the  Hebrew  nation,  through 
all  the  vicissitudes  of  their  history,  and  it  was  intended 
to  subserve  very  important  ends  in  that  illustrious  com- 
munity. It  was  a  festive  occasion  altogether.  The  time 
for  its  observance,  corresponding  to  our  October,  was  the 
most  beautiful  of  the  whole  year — after  the  heats  of  the 
Summer  solstice,  and  before  the  "  former  rains,"  the  most 
favorable  time  for  general  travelling.  The  feast  was  held 
in  and  about  the  metropolis,  whither  all  adult  males 
resorted  from  the  various  tribes.  The  mode  of  its  observ- 
ance was  singularly  picturesque.  The  people  left  their 
usual  dwellings,  and  constructed  tabernacles — hence  the 
name — or  booths  and  arbors,  out  of  the  "boughs  of 
goodly  trees,"  especially  of  the  evergreen,  so  many  varie- 
ties of  which  were  found  in  Palestine.  The  whole  court 
of  the  Temple,  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  the  area  of  the 
streets,  and  the  adjacent  fields,  were  covered  with 
these  graceful  structures.  On  the  evening  of  the  first 
day,  there  was  an  illumination,  which  threw  a  golden 
light  over  this  most  animated  and  joyous  scene.  The 
city  wore  the  appearance  of  a  camp,  and  yet  not  with 
the   usual  accompaniments  of  a  camp — weariness   and 


Lull  in  the  Storm.  259 

watching  and  armed  preparation ;  all  was  hilarity  and 
delight.  Thither  the  tribes  had  come  up,  from  the  val- 
leys of  corn,  of  milk,  and  honey,  appearing  before  God 
in  Zion.  No  more  should  it  be  said  that  heathenism 
alone  had  provided  days  of  festive  worship,  for  the 
"  modest  and  reverent  solemnities  "  of  Israel  had  ap- 
pointed a  season  of  joy,  alike  simple  and  pure,  in  utmost 
contrast  with  the  bacchanalian  orgies  which  resounded  in 
the  courts  of  Chemosh  and  Dagon,  the  insane  laughter 
of  Sidonian  worship,  and  the  monstrous  pomps  of  Baby- 
lon and  Egypt.  Now  was  the  hill  of  Zion  fairly  ablaze 
with  pleasure  and  joy.  The  harp  and  the  viol  were  heard 
in  the  land,  the  tabret  and  the  cymbal,  stringed  instru- 
ments and  organs,  and  high  above  them  all  were  the 
voices  of  a  whole  nation,  chanting  together  those  high- 
sounding  psalms  which  had  been  prepared  by  their  Poet- 
King.  The  waving  of  palms,  the  flush  of  joy  overspread- 
ing every  countenance,  the  choral  music,  conspired  to 
make  the  Jewish  Feast  of  Tabernacles  the  most  remark- 
able among  all  the  observances  of  men,  for  pure,  well- 
regulated,  and  religious  joy. 

What  now  was  the  intention  of  this  national  festivity  ? 
Merely  for  the  overflow  of  animal  spirits  ?  Was  it  a  pro- 
vision for  general  holiday,  with  nothing  ulterior  to  the 
act  of  recreation  ?  Far  from  this.  It  had  a  definite  ob- 
ject and  meaning — chiefly  to  commemorate  the  earlier 
events  of  their  own  annals,  even  the  time  when  their 
fathers  dwelt  in  nothing  but  movable  tents,  the  nomadic 
period  of  their  history,  when  God  brought  them  out  of 
Egypt  into  their  own  goodly  land.  Conjoined  with  this 
act  of  commemoration,  the  feast  was  to  testify  gratitude 


2  6  o  Thanksgiving, 

for  the  ingathering  of  the  harvest ;  to  furnish  an  occasion 
for  the  reunion  of  friends,  the  interchange  of  hospitality, 
the  bestowment  of  kindness  on  the  poor,  the  widow,  the 
orphan,  and  the  stranger  j  and,  above  all,  to  foster  a  spirit 
of  nationality,  by  bringing  together  the  different  tribes, 
and  so  fusing  down  the  rough  edges  of  sectional  prejudice. 
This  great  Hebrew  nation  was  divided  into  several  groups, 
quite  distinct  in  several  particulars,  as  to  rights  and 
inheritances,  taking  names  from  their  several  progenitors. 
As  these,  with  their  distinct  geographical  lines,  bearing 
banners  inscribed  with  various  names  and  emblems,  were 
brought  together  once  in  the  year,  to  form  acquaintance 
and  interchange  civilities,  how  certain  was  the  effect  of 
their  natural  festival  to  obliterate  local  interests,  and  to 
blend  the  many  tribes  into  one  strong  sentiment  and  heart 
of  nationality,  in  the  use  of  the  same  songs,  the  expression 
of  the  same  religious  faith,  and  the  joyful  worship  of  one 
and  the  same  God. 

Every  civilized  people  has  some  festive  custom  by 
which  to  celebrate  the  ingathering  of  the  harvest. 
What  object  is  better  fitted  to  produce  gladness  and 
praise  ?  The  fruits  and  grains  which  are  hustled  about 
in  markets  and  on  the  docks  as  if  they  were  the  most 
vulgar  things,  are  not  the  product  of  human  art,  but  the 
gift  of  a  bountiful  Father.  How  stupendous  this  miracle 
of  abundance  of  food,  provided  by  His  hand,  every  year, 
every  day,  and  several  times  in  every  day  for  every 
living  thing !  Talk  of  miracles  as  belonging  to  remote 
ages  in  the  past !  Behold  this  marvel  of  the  revolving 
year.  The  work  of  the  husbandman  complete,  Winter 
comes,  and  seals  the  earth  in  silence  and  cold.     The 


Lull  in  the  Storm.  261 

streams  are  stiffened  and  still,  the  ground  is  hard  as 
stone,  and  buried  out  of  sight  in  masses  of  snow.  The 
sleet  and  the  hail  are  abroad,  the  birds  have  fled, 
and  verily  it  seems  as  if  nature  were  dead,  and  wrapped 
up,  stiff  and  stark,  in  its  white  and  glistening  winding- 
sheet.  Weeks  revolve,  Orion  and  the  Pleiades  keeping 
watch,  like  angels  at  the  sepulchre  of  Christ,  when  the 
icicles  begin  to  trickle  from  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  and 
the  snow-bunting  appears  with  its  soft  chirp,  and  the  ice 
melts  in  the  rivers,  and  the  streams  are  free  and  frolic- 
some, and,  as  the  sun  ascends  higher  in  his  circuits,  the 
green  grass  makes  its  appearance,  and  the  winter-grain 
shoots  up  all  over  the  fields,  and  the  birch-leaves  show 
themselves,  and  the  "  home-loving  and  divorceless  swal- 
low "  has  come  back  to  its  haunts,  the  sweet  violets  are 
by  the  wayside,  and  the  bright  marigold  in  the  green 
meadows,  and  the  fresh  earth  yields  itself  gladly  to  the 
march  of  the  plough,  and  the  trench  in  the  garden 
and  the  furrow  in  the  field  take  to  their  bosom  the  sacred 
deposit  of  the  seeds,  and  all  the  air  is  perfumed  with  the 
blossoms  of  the  orchard,  and  the  green  blade  of  the 
corn  is  up,  and  men  sleep  and  wake,  knowing  that  it  will 
grow  without  thought  of  theirs,  by  the  mysterious  life 
which  God  imparts  to  its  every  cell  and  tissue ;  and  Sum- 
mer comes  with  his  fervent  heat,  and  the  dews  distil, 
and  the  showers  fall,  and  lo !  a  continent  is  crowned 
with  all  kinds  of  grains  and  fruits  ;  the  ground  is  teem- 
ing with  its  treasures,  the  soft  wind  of  the  west  plays 
through  the  tresses  of  the  corn,  and  skims  over  ten  thou- 
sand acres  of  bending  wheat ;  and  soon  Autumn  has 
come,  with   its    glorious   pomp,   its   harvesting   and  its 


262  Than  ks giving. 

plenty,  and  its  imperial  coionation  of  the  year,  and  there 
is  no  stint  to  the  munificence  of  our  heavenly  Father — 
bread  enough  and  to  spare  in  his  great  house.  The  eyes 
of  all  wait  upon  Him,  and  He  giveth  them  their  meat  in 
due  season — the  ox  and  the  sheep,  the  ant  and  the  bee, 
the  wild  beast  in  the  forest  and  the  nimble  squirrel,  the 
sparrow  and  the  pigeon  darkening  the  sky  with  their 
swift  and  vast  caravans,  and  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, in  great  cities,  in  great  armies,  in  great  fleets,  in 
the  house,  by  the  way,  all  over  the  earth,  fed  daily, 
hourly,  by  this  vast  miracle  of  an  universal  Providence. 
Well  may  the  holy  Psalm  utter  the  words,  Praise  the 
Lord  all  the  earth,  ye  dragons  and  all  deeps,  fire  and 
hail,  snow  and  vapor,  stormy  wind  fulfilling  his  word, 
mountains  and  all  hills,  fruitful  trees  and  all  cedars, 
beasts  and  all  cattle,  creeping  things  and  flying  fowl, 
kings  of  the  earth  and  all  people,  both  young  men  and 
maidens,  old  men  and  children.  Let  them  praise  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  for  His  name  alone  is  excellent — His 
glory  is  above  the  earth  and  the  heavens.  When  Han- 
del's Messiah  was  first  performed,  in  1780,  in  London, 
the  audience,  exceedingly  affected  by  the  music  in  gen- 
eral, when  the  chorus  began,  "  For  the  Lord  God  omnipo- 
tent reigneth,"  were  so  transported  that  all,  the  king  not 
excepted,  started  to  their  feet,  and  remained  standing 
till  it  was  ended  •*  and  the  world  ought  to  be  transported 
with  delight  as  in  harvest-songs  they  speak  of  the  won- 
drous works  of  God,  and  abundantly  utter  the  memory 
of  His  great  goodness ! 

*  Forbes'  Life  of  Beattie. 


Lull  in  the  Storm.  263 

Next  to  the  ingathering  of  the  harvest,  the  event  of 
the  year  which  should  elicit  our  liveliest  gratitude  is  the 
preservation  of  our  institutions  amid  all  the  commotions 
of  the  times,  by  the  good  providence  of  Him  who  bears 
up  the  firmament  by  no  visible  support.  The  issue  of 
our  recent  presidential  election  was  watched  with  pro- 
found concern  by  multitudes  at  home  and  abroad.  It 
was,  in  the  intelligent  judgment  of  many,  as  if  the  fate 
of  republican  institutions  trembled  in  the  scale,  for  all 
time  and  for  all  people.  The  decent  and  orderly  manner 
in  which  the  election  was  conducted,  the  promptness 
with  which  the  minority,  two  millions  of  men,  acquiesced 
in  the  decision  of  the  majority,  exceeding  their  own 
number  only  by  some  two  or  three  hundred  thousand 
voters,  the  tranquillity  which  instantly  succeeded  a  most 
stormy  agitation — has  not  only  strengthened  our  own 
faith  in  our  own  institutions,  but  has  presented  before  the 
world  a  spectacle  of  sublime  self-control  which  is  entitled 
to  more  than  a  passing  allusion,  even  a  most  considerate 
and  philosophic  analysis. 

An  election  is,  by  the  very  signification  of  the  term, 
the  putting  forth  of  one's  own  will  and  preference.  It  is 
only  in  certain  stages  of  civilization  that  such  an  expres 
sion  of  the  individual  will  is  tolerated  or  allowed.  Let 
us  not  forget  what  toils  and  fermentations  of  history  were 
necessary  before  that  new  phase  of  government  was 
reached  in  which  a  whole  people  are  permitted  to  make 
expression  of  their  personal  preferences  in  the  adminis- 
tration of  their  own  public  affairs. 

According  to  the  familiar  proverb  which  we  wrote, 
when  children,  in  our  copy-books,  "  Many  men  have  many 


264  Thanksgiving, 

minds."  So  long  as  men  have  distinct  individuality,  their 
wills  must  often  work  in  opposite  directions.  Shake- 
speare makes  one  of  the  citizens,  in  Coriolanus,  to  say, 
H  We  have  been  called  of  many,  the  many-headed  multi- 
tude ;  not  that  our  heads  are  some  brown,  some  black, 
some  auburn,  and  some  bald ;  but  that  our  wits  are  so 
diversely  colored ;  and  truly,  I  think,  if  all  our  wits  were 
to  issue  out  of  one  skull,  they  would  fly  east,  west,  north, 
south ;  and  their  consent  of  one  direct  way,  would  be  at 
once  to  all  points  of  the  compass."*  Hence  this  great 
interpreter  of  nature  reasoned  that  popular  consenting — 
in  other  words,  a  government  based  on  free  voting — was  a 
solecism  and  an  impossibility.  Beginning  with  his  prem- 
ises, we  reach  a  different  result.  We  accept  the  first 
fact,  as  to  the  "  many-headed  multitude."  The  next  fact, 
the  logical  inference  from  its  freedom,  we  admit  also  ; 
and  a  very  important  fact  it  is,  if  any  one  would  analyze 
and  interpret  rightly  the  working  of  our  free  republic, 
that  there  will  always  be  some  occasion  for  the  expres- 
sion of  different  opinions  and  determinations.  To  ex- 
press this  idea  in  a  more  homely  phrase,  there  will  always 
be  something  about  which  to  quarrel.  You  meet  it  first 
in  a  country-town,  in  a  parish-meeting.  The  thing  in 
dispute  is  the  building  of  a  new  school-house,  the  laying 
out  of  a  new  road,  the  location  of  the  post-office.  There 
being  no  imperial  authority  to  direct,  every  man  in  the 
town,  of  course,  has  an  eye  on  his  own  accommodation 
and  his  own  property  ;  no  one  is  willing  to  be  wronged  or 
incommoded \  and  so  parties  are  formed,  and  there  is  any 

*  Coriolanus,  Act  2,  Scene  3. 


Lull  in  the  Storm.  265 

amount  of  hard  talking,  and  faction,  and  threatening; 
but  the  town-meeting  comes  about,  the  "  selectmen  "  are 
on  hand,  a  moderator  is  chosen,  the  votes  are  dropped, 
the  decision  is  announced,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the 
few  grumblers  who  are  always  threatening  to  move  out 
of  town,  every  body  acquiesces  in  the  result ;  the  village 
relapses  into  its  wonted  tranquillity,  till  somebody's  will 
starts  a  new  project,  and  the  whole  hive  is  roused  again 
in  the  excited  play  of  rival  interests  and  preferences. 
This  is  precisely  what  we  mean  as  essential  to  the  idea 
of  liberty, — the  free  working  of  divers  wills.  The  same 
thing  occurs,  on  a  larger  scale,  in  national  affairs.  So 
long  as  the  nation  is  not  dead,  but  alive,  and  in  prog- 
ress and  growth,  it  is  a  matter  of  necessity  that  there 
should  be  the  putting  forth  of  individual  wishes  and  in- 
tentions, which,  for  noise  and  force  of  collision,  is  pro- 
portioned to  the  magnitude  of  the  questions  at  stake  and 
the  interests  supposed  to  be  involved.  Nov/  it  is  a  ques- 
tion of  democracy  as  opposed  to  federal  centralization ; 
now  it  is  the  tariff;  the  rival  claims  of  agriculture,  com- 
merce, and  manufactures ;  now  a  national  bank,  and  the 
removal  of  deposits  to  a  national  treasury ;  now  it  is  anti- 
masonry,  now  the  colonization  of  the  blacks,  and  now  the 
abolition  of  slavery ;  now  it  is  the  legalized  suppression 
of  intemperance,  and  now  the  forth-putting  of  native 
Americanism  in  opposition  to  all  foreign  influence,  politi- 
cal or  religious.  So  it  ever  has  been,  and  so  it  always  will 
be  ;  it  is  involved  in  the  very  conception  of  liberty,  as 
represented  in  general  suffrage,  that  there  should  be 
the  free  and  unobstructed  working  of  many  wills,  in  every 
conceivable  direction.  From  this  freedom  results  parti- 
12 


266  Thanksgiving. 

sanship,  in  the  working  together  of  those  who  are  of  the 
same  mind,  and  from  the  opposition  of  parties  comes 
clashing,  debate,  noise,  and  all  the  varied  measures  which 
can  be  devised  by  which  one  party  may  carry  the  day 
against  the  other.  So  loud  is  the  sound,  so  passionate 
the  manner,  so  vehement  in  language  and  behavior,  that 
those  living  in  other  countries,  unused  to  such  exhibitions, 
predict  only  one  result — the  overthrow  of  the  government, 
a  revolution  terminating  in  bloodshed  and  universal  an- 
archy. To  all  which  there  is  but  one  answer,  for  such 
as  disbelieve  in  free  institutions  :  Danger  is  not  in  noise, 
but  silence  \  not  so  much  from  what  comes  out  of  men's 
mouths,  as  from  that  which  is  crowded  down  into  their 
smothered  hearts.  The  steam  rushing  and  roaring  from 
an  open  valve  terrifies  the  timid  by  its  frightful  noise,  but 
the  escape  is  the  sign  of  safety ;  the  peril  is  when  the 
valves  are  shut,  and  the  steam  is  pent  up  within  the 
strained  and  banded  boilers,  and  the  boat  shoots  swiftly 
through  the  still  waters  \  then  is  the  time  to  expect  fatal 
explosions.  We  are  not  blind  to  the  perils  of  liberty,  for 
they  are  many  and  portentous ;  but,  in  providing  an 
antidote,  you  must  not  strangle  liberty  itself,  nor  forget 
that  this  is  its  essential  quality — that  there  should  be, 
throughout  the  whole  mass,  a  free  expression  of  the  elect- 
ive will  of  all.  Did  you  never  watch,  on  a  Summer's 
day,  the  gathering  of  two  great  clouds,  in  the  west  and 
the  north  ?  Blacker  and  blacker  do  they  roll  up,  with 
muttering  thunders  in  their  bosom,  covering  the  face  of 
the  sky,  when,  suddenly,  as  they  meet  in  mid-heaven, 
there  drops  one  bright  flash,  so  smooth  in  its  descent  as 
to  excite  the  sense  of  the  beautiful  amid  the  terror  of  the 


Lull  in  the  Storm.  267 

scene,  followed  instantly  by  one  sharp,  rattling  volley, 
and  then  comes  down  the  rain ;  and  when  the  clouds  are 
emptied,  the  sun  breaks  out,  and  the  meadows  give  forth 
a  goodly  smell,  and  those  masses  of  cloud  hasten  towards 
the  western  horizon,  exchanging  their  inky  black  for 
every  brilliant  hue,  reflecting  the  glory  of  the  setting 
luminary  which  they  could  not  obstruct.  Even  so  great 
states  and  territories  are  agitated  by  great  public  ques- 
tions, affecting,  as  they  believe,  the  welfare  of  the  coun- 
try, the  condition  of  posterity,  and  the  prospects  of  the 
world ;  every  breath  blows  the  fire  of  faction  to  an  in- 
tensity of  heat,  like  that  of  a  furnace  ;  the  press,  the 
public  meeting,  are  inflamed  with  passion,  and  such  are 
the  rumblings  of  the  gathering  hosts,  and  such  the  up- 
turnings  of  the  "  discolored  depths "  of  the  sea,  that 
every  foreign  spectator  anticipates  the  last  spasms  of  the 
republic ;  but  the  day  of  election  has  come,  and  these 
four  millions  and  a  half  of  men,  all  over  the  land,  put 
themselves  in  motion,  yet  as  decently  as  if  going  up  in 
orderly  procession  to  Sunday  worship,  armed  with  no* 
thing  but  those  small  pieces  of  white  paper,  which,  one 
after  another,  are  dropped  into  the  ballot-box, 

"Soft  and  still 
As  snow-flakes  fall  upon  the  sod, 
Yet  swift  to  do  a  freeman's  will, 
As  lightning  does  the  will  of  God." 

The  sun  goes  down — the  telegraph  announces  the  result — 
the  earth  has  neither  exploded  itself,  nor  dashed  any 
other  orb  into  fragments,  but  it  wheels  in  quiet  obedience 
to  the  centripetal  force ;  and  a  defeated  minority,  with  no 


268  Thanksgiving. 

change  of  opinion  or  will,  practises  conformity  to  the 
great  law  of  constitutional  morality — peaceful  acquies- 
cence to  the  majority — that  sacred  sentiment  for  which 
we  are  now  battling  in  the  eye  of  the  world.  The  habit 
is  so  familiar  to  ourselves,  that  we  do  not  pause  to  reflect 
how  sublime  it  is,  what  majestic  developments  both  of 
conscience  and  intelligence  it  implies — this  alliance  of 
self-assertion  with  self-control — this  utmost  freedom  of 
will  with  loyalty  to  the  supremacy  of  law,  order,  and 
authority. 

Having  said  so  much  in  the  way  of  analyzing  our 
own  methods  and  vindicating  our  own  habits,  chiefly  with 
reference  to  others,  who  do  not  understand  us  as  we  un- 
derstand ourselves,  it  is  well,  in  review  of  these  recent 
and  pregnant  scenes,  to  say  something  with  reference  to 
ourselves.  In  the  advice  we  give,  perhaps  we  shall  be 
thought  to  resemble  the  impudent  mountebank  in  the 
Tatler,  who,  when  Britain  was  shaken  by  an  earth- 
quake, advertised  to  the  country-people  certain  pills  for 
sale,  which  "were  very  good  against  an  earthquake." 
Quite  an  absurdity,  it  may  be  thought,  to  prescribe  for 
popular  commotions  and  national  ferments.  But,  beauti- 
ful and  hopeful  as  is  the  play  of  free  forces,  seriously  a 
national  election,  as  now  conducted,  is  a  terrific  trial  of 
the  national  character.  It  is  most  devoutly  to  be  wished, 
that  we  may  never  adopt  it  as  our  rule,  "that  all  is  fair  in 
politics  ; "  that  there  was  less  of  that  hyperbolical  mode 
of  speaking  and  writing  previous  to  an  election,  which 
must  be  construed  as  a  figure  of  speech  to  redeem  it  from 
the  name  of  falsehood  j  and  that  there  was  more  of  the 
calm  candor  which  relies  on  sound  argument  rather  than 


Lull  in  the  Storm.  269 

hard  and  tough  expletives.  The  names  which  political 
parties'  have  attached  to  each  other,  in  this  country, 
during  the  last  thirty  years,  the  like  of  which  are  used  in 
no  other  country  in  the  civilized  world,  are  shocking  to 
public  decency ;  and  we  need  not  be  surprised,  so  long 
as  we  apply  them  as  familiar  terms  of  description  to  our 
own  "  kith  and  kin,"  that  we  are  regarded  by  foreigners, 
who  have  never  visited  our  shores,  as  only  removed  a  de- 
gree or-  two  from  the  savages,  whose  grotesque  nomen- 
clature we  have  imitated  in  our  political  designations. 

The  very  definition  we  have  given  of  liberty,  implies 
the  necessity  of  weights  and  balances  to  check  and  coun- 
teract the  full  swing  of  the  will,  lest  it  fly  off  into  excess. 
Its  natural  tendency  is  to  ambition,  to  pride,  to  self- 
glorification,  to  obstinacy  of  purpose  :  to  make  it  safe, 
it  must  have  a  large  infusion  of  that  virtue  for  which 
neither  the  Greek  nor  Roman  languages  had  a  name,  till 
the  New  Testament  writers  coined  the  new  word,  hu- 
mility ;  that  quality  which,  with  no  meanness,  defers  to  the 
will  of  others,  especially  in  graceful  subordination  to  all 
rightful  authority  on  earth  and  in  heaven.  Let  us  be 
grateful  that  there  is  in  our  land  so  much  of  intelligence, 
so  much  of  educated  conscience  :  our  only  peril  for  the 
future  is  involved  in  the  inquiry  whether  we  have  enough 
of  both  to  protect  us  from  the  assertion  of  self-will,  in  its 
manifold  forms  of  dishonesty  and  corruption,  ambition 
for  place  and  power  and  emolument.  We  are  told  that 
in  Turkey  it  was  a  custom,  when  any  man  was  the  author 
of  notorious  falsehoods,  to  blacken  the  whole  front  of  his 
house,  so  that  an  ambassador,  whose  business  it  is,  in  the 
words  of  Sir  Henry  Wotten,  to  "  lie  for  the  good  of  his 


270  Thanksgiving. 

country,"  has  had  this  mark  set  upon  his  house,  when  he 
has  been  detected  in  any  piece  of  feigned  intelligence 
that  has  prejudiced  the  government  or  misled  the  minds 
of  the  people.*  Following  this  singular  conceit,  I  have 
sometimes  imagined  what  a  curious  effect  would  be  pro- 
duced if  all  the  habitations  of  our  countrymen  were 
painted  in  colors  representative  of  the  men  who  live  in 
them.  If  all  those  who  deal  in  falsehood  and  forgery 
pernicious  to  the  public  welfare  had  their  houses  black 
as  falsehood  itself,  and  those  infected  with  jealousy  and 
prejudice  and  envy  had  houses  of  sickly  yellow  j  and  all 
ever  suspected  of  enriching  themselves  at  the  public  ex- 
pense were  ensconced  in  houses  green  as  the  backs  of 
our  paper-currency ;  and  all  addicted  to  fanaticism,  ma- 
lignity, and  revenge,  had  their  houses  crimson  as  blood ; 
while  those  only  who  practised  a  true  candor  dwelt  in 
houses  corresponding  thereto — the  very  word  signifying  a 
pure  whiteness — it  is  quite  certain  that  we  should  have 
a  good  deal  of  polychromatic  ornamentation,  and  a  sort  of 
architecture,  if  not  too  funereal,  that  would  not  be  with- 
out its  good  effect  on  the  morals  of  the  country. 

To  have  a  republic,  you  must  have  a  community  of 
good  men  ;  since  a  republic,  by  its  very  terms,  is  the  ag- 
gregate of  individual  wills.  One  of  the  sages  of  anti- 
quity, as  the  result  of  his  political  observation,  has  left 
on  record  this  prescription,  "  Abstine  a  fabis"  ("Abstain 
from  beans").  The  reference  is  not  to  any  article  of 
dietetics  ;  but  beans,  white  and  black,  being  used  by 
voters  as  we  use  printed  ballots,  Pythagoras  meant  that, 

*  Addison,  iv.  461. 


Lull  in  the  Storm.  271 

if  one  would  maintain  his  peace  of  mind,  he  must  not 
meddle  with  elections.  This  is  no  rule  for  an  American 
citizen.  Abstain  from  elections,  and  the  republic  falls 
to  pieces,  since  its  distinctive  organization  depends  alto- 
gether on  the  expression,  in  some  sort,  of  the  elective  will 
of  those  who  are  themselves  the  commonwealth.  Grate- 
ful for  past  blessings  and  escapes,  there  is  no  lesson  more 
pertinent,  more  important  for  future  duty,  than  that  good 
men,  foregoing  their  apathy  and  reluctance,  must  charge 
themselves  with  care  and  responsibility  towrards  the  State, 
exercising  their  own  choice  intelligently,  independently, 
decidedly,  or  there  is  but  one  alternative — the  surrender 
of  the  country,  through  ever-recurring  elections,  to  the 
greed,  the  venality,  the  selfishness  of  the  multitude ;  and 
that  is  an  entombment  of  the  republic  from  which  there 
is  no  resurrection. 

But  we  will  not  dwell  long  enough  even  on  this  one 
word  of  caution  to  cause  a  shade  of  sadness  on  a  day  of 
gratitude.  We  have  not  been  given  up  to  destruction. 
We  are  not  called  to  deplore  reverses  to  our  arms,  but 
to  celebrate  past  successes.  Whatever  opinions  may 
exist  as  to  policy  and  management,  there  was  never  a 
time  when  the  purpose  of  the  nation,  God  helping  us,  to 
defend  its  own  life  and  maintain  its  own  honor,  was  more 
general  and  more  decided  than  at  this  very  hour.  Allegi- 
ance is  a  legal  conformity,  and  may  be  compelled  by  out- 
ward force.  Loyalty  is  an  uncoerced  and  unbought  grace, 
with  true  love  in  its  heart,  and  so  is  patient  and  strong, 
ready  to  do  or  endure  whatever  will  fortify  and  bless  the 
country  to  which  it  clings  with  undying  devotion.  And 
surely,  if  ever  there  was  a  cause  which  might  naturally  be 


272  Thanksgiving. 

supposed  to  draw  towards  itself  the  sympathies  of  all 
generous  spirits  in  the  world,  and  the  blessing  of  God 
Almighty,  it  is  the  purpose  of  a  free  and  benignant  gov- 
ernment to  preserve  itself,  and  uphold  the  supremacy  of 
law,  and  this  with  no  vindictiveness  or  wrath,  but  with 
that  calm  repose  which  indicates  the  consciousness  of  a 
good  cause,  and  power  adequate  to  its  accomplishment. 
For  the  first  time  in  our  existence  as  a  nation,  we  have  of 
late  a  coin  bearing  upon  its  face  a  religious  sentiment — 
In  God  we  trust.  Brave  old  Latimer,  more  than  three 
centuries  ago,  preached  before  King  Edward  the  Sixth, 
on  the  happy  issue  of  a  new  shilling,  having  for  its  in- 
scription the  fine  motto — Timor  Domini  fons  vitce  vel 
sapientice — a  sentence  which,  the  preacher  hoped,  would 
be  printed  on  the  heart  of  the  young  king  in  choosing  his 
wife  and  all  his  officers.  If  the  sentiment  now  in  com- 
mon circulation  on  our  coin  is  but  deeply  impressed  on 
the  hearts  of  the  nation,  that  God  is  our  trust,  we  may 
be  released  from  all  vaticinations  or  apprehensions  as  to 
that  future  which  still  is  veiled,  assured  that  the  final 
issue  will  be  right.  So  let  us  take  our  meat  in  the  lull 
of  the  storm,  and  be  of  good  cheer,  thanking  God  and 
taking  courage. 


LIBERTY    AND   LAW. 


As  free,  and  not  using  your  liberty  for  a  cloak  of  maliciousness 
but  as  the  servants  of  God. 

I  Pet.  2  :  16. 


12* 


XIII. 

LIBERTY    AND    LAW. 

The  period  of  Hebrew  history  which  followed  the 
death  of  Joshua  is  described  as  one  in  which  "  every  man 
did  that  which  was  right  in  his  own  eyes."  Though  the 
incidents  which  illustrate  this  state  of  anarchy  are  record- 
ed in  the  appendix  of  the  Book  of  Judges,  and  not  at  its 
beginning,  with  which  they  synchronize,  yet  it  is  agreed 
by  the  best  chronologists,  Jewish  and  Christian,  that  the 
incidents  themselves  took  place  in  the  year  1406  b.  c. 
The  exodus  of  the  Hebrew  people  from  Egypt,  under 
Moses,  was  in  the  year  149 1  b.  c.  Then  was  it  that 
Moses  and  all  Israel  chanted  that  song  upon  the  shores 
of  the  Red  Sea,  which  will  stand  to  the  end  of  time,  like 
a  monumental  shaft,  in  honor  of  a  great  deliverance. 
Subtracting  the  one  date  from  the  other,  we  are  surprised 
to  find  how  nearly  the  result  corresponds  to  the  space 
which  separates  the  Declaration  of  American  Independ- 
ence in  1776  from  the  present  time. 

It  seems  to  us  incredible  that  a  people  so  distinguish- 
ed by  the  favor  of  Divine  Providence  ;  so  recently  deliver- 
ed  out  of  Egyptian  bondage,  with  signs  and  wonders  so 
extraordinary,  and  guided  into  the  occupancy  of  the  fair 


276  Thanksgiving. 

land  which  for  so  long  a  time  had  been  promised 
to  them  and  their  fathers,  should  so  soon,  if  at  all,  re- 
lapse into  lawlessness,  irreligion,  and  heathenism.  We 
should  have  supposed  that,  with  such  memories  as  those 
which  characterized  their  national  history,  and  these 
so  fresh  and  recent,  they  would  have  been  sure  to 
adhere  to  all  those  political  and  religious  laws  which 
were  their  security  and  honor  and  blessing.  With  what 
nation  had  God  dealt  as  with  them  ?  Yet  twenty  years 
only  had  passed  since  the  death  of  Joshua — the  leader 
of  the  nation,  the  viceroy  of  God,  who  had  been  a  personal 
witness  of  all  the  marvels  which  had  signalized  their  his- 
tory from  the  date  of  the  exodus  j  scarcely  a  decade  of 
years  had  been  finished  since  the  last  of  those  venerable 
men  had  died,  who  had  participated  in  the  scenes  of  the 
wilderness,  and  the  occupation  of  the  national  domain ; 
when  the  whole  people,  as  if  smitten  with  frenzy,  cast 
away  their  eminent  prerogatives,  secured  to  them  at  such 
a  cost,  and,  like  swine  trampling  on  priceless  pearls, 
abandoned  themselves  to  anarchy  and  idolatry.  Then 
occurred  those  scenes  of  rapine,  violence,  carnage,  and 
barbaric  cruelty,  terminating  in  most  fierce  and  bloody 
wars  between  tribes  once  linked  in  firmest  concord,  which 
cannot  now  be  read  without  a  blush  for  human  shame 
and  sighs  for  human  folly. 

The  method,  as  it  would  seem  from  this  episode  of 
history,  as  well  as  from  the  whole  drama  of  history  itself, 
by  which  the  Almighty  educates  nations  for  a  high  civili- 
zation, is  to  allow  them  to  experiment  for  themselves, 
according  to  their  own  ways  and  devices.  There  is  a 
shorter,  easier,  and  more  economical  method,  within  the 


CHITEESIt: 

Liberty  and  Law.  ^J^lfi^^     «\  W 

reach  of  all,  if  they  would  but  adopt  it ;  even  to  regard 
the  requirements  of  God  with  implicit  faith  and  obedi- 
ence. But  when  men  will  bolt  out  of  the  right  way,  and 
will  do  that  which  is  right  in  their  own  eyes,  though  it  be 
antagonistic  to  the  will  of  the  Supreme,  there  is  but  one 
way,  even  that  they  should  make  trial  of  their  evil 
courses,  and  be  made  to  feel,  in  their  own  experience,  how 
evil  they  are,  and  how  tremendous  the  consequences  of 
every  infraction  of  the  Divine  code.  Such  was  the  result 
of  this  portion  of  Hebrew  history.  It  was  well,  both  for 
themselves  and  for  the  world,  that  a  nation,  bent  on  the 
experiment,  should  make  one  trial  of  what  it  was  to  be 
without  any  lawful  magistracy.  It  was  not  necessary  that 
the  experiment  should  be  repeated.  The  lesson  was 
burnt  deep  and  ineffaceable  into  the  national  convictions. 
Sensualism,  brutality,  internecine  wars,  barbaric  invasions, 
so  far  prevailed,  that  at  length  necessity,  the  instinct  of 
self-preservation,  suggested  various  remedies.  Persons 
remarkable,  at  first,  for  physical  strength  and  courage, 
presented  themselves  as  rallying-points  for  the  assertion 
of  right,  the  vindication  of  justice,  and  the  protection  of 
the  innocent.  Such  were  the  "  judges  "  of  Israel — Oth- 
niel,  Ehud,  Deborah  and  Barak,  Gideon,  Jephthah,  and 
Samson — rude  compounds,  as  we  should  say,  of  the  war- 
rior and  the  magistrate,  yet  the  offspring  of  necessity,  and 
the  strong  helpers  of  the  people,  out  of  the  morass  of 
anarchy,  into  somewhat  of  order  and  law,  gradually  shaped 
into  permanent  magistracy,  and  culminating  at  last  in  the 
splendor  of  the  Hebrew  monarchy. 

Why  should  not  every  man  be  allowed  to  do  that  which 
is  right  in  his  own  eyes  ?     Why  should  not  mere  wi//  and 


278  Thanksgiving. 

feeling  be  a  sufficient  authority  for  the  actions  of  indi- 
viduals and  communities  ?  All  have  an  intuitive  appre- 
hension that  such  a  state  of  things  cannot  be  allowed ; 
that  it  would  be  sure,  if  tried,  to  bring  about  a  general 
wreck  and  ruin  of  the  race.  Yet  all  may  not  be  able  to 
give  such  an  answer  to  this  question  as  would  satisfy  one 
who  forms  his  opinions  and  regulates  his  conduct  on 
ethical  and  religious  grounds. 

The  question  is  invested  with  special  importance,  in 
our  own  times,  and  in  our  own  land,  because  of  the  ten- 
dency here  to  deify  the  ideas  of  personal  rights,  personal 
freedom,  and  personal  independence.  Every  thing  in  our 
institutions,  in  our  literature,  in  our  manners,  has  long 
tended  to  stimulate  these  ideas  to  the  utmost.  We  have 
had  any  number  of  discussions  and  treatises  designed  to 
prove  that  individual  opinion  was  the  highest  arbiter  of 
truth  and  duty,  and  that  every  man's  own  intuition  was 
the  ultimate  standard  of  what  is  right.  The  whole  ten- 
dency of  our  national  life  and  thought  is  to  foster  this 
spirit  of  personal  liberty  and  independence.  Nor  are 
these  qualities  to  be  spoken  of  with  disrespect.  They 
are  most  essential  elements  in  the  grand  compound  of 
human  civilization.  Combined  with  certain  other  ele- 
ments of  law  and  order,  they  form  the  very  highest  de- 
velopment of  humanity.  What  are  the  other  elements  so 
essential  ?  What  are  the  limitations  which  must  be  fixed 
to  the  exercise  of  personal  freedom  ?  This  is  the  very  gist 
of  the  question.  This  is  only  proposing,  in  another  form, 
our  original  problem  :  Why  may  not  every  man  do  that 
which  is  right  in  his  own  eyes  ? 

Man  is  not  an  independent  existence,  but  a  part  of  a 


Liberty  and  Law.  279 

living  organism,  which  we  call  society,  by  which  he  is 
connected  with  other  individuals  in  indissoluble  relations. 
This  is  a  necessary  condition  of  things,  dependent  not  on 
our  choice,  but  without  our  choice,  on  the  will  of  the  All- 
Wise.  We  hear  much  of  the  social  compact — an  expres- 
sion used  by  those  who  have  reasoned  concerning  the 
origin  and  laws  of  human  society  and  civil  polity ;  and 
since  we  must  have  terms  to  represent  ideas,  there  is  no 
objection  to  this  phrase,  if  we  use  it  with  a  discreet  per- 
ception of  its  import.  The  point  to  be  guarded  in  the 
use  of  the  word  compact,  or  any  of  its  equivalents,  in  the 
definition  of  society,  is  this  :  organized  society  is  not  the 
voluntary  concourse  of  individuals,  but  a  providential  ne- 
cessity into  which  we  are  born,  without  our  knowledge  or 
consent.  It  is  not  of  his  own  will  that  every  child  enters 
the  world  subject  to  an  authority  higher  than  his  own. 
He  is  introduced,  at  his  birth,  into  a  social  state  which 
necessitates  his  subordination  to  a  preexisting  order,  in 
the  shape  of  parental  government.  In  like  manner,  with- 
out his  consent  at  all,  he  is  born  into  the  civil  polity,  a 
condition  of  things  which  depends,  not  on  the  voluntary 
associating  of  men,  but  on  absolute  necessities  imposed 
by  the  Being  who  has  given  us  an  existence.  Without 
this  beneficent  organization,  which  we  call  society,  the 
human  race  could  not  exist  at  all ;  certainly  it  could  not 
exist  with  any  possibility  of  civilization  and  culture  and 
development  and  progress  and  happiness.  The  State 
represents  the  great  ideas  of  order,  security,  right,  justice, 
and  humanity,  as  the  necessary  condition  of  all  morality. 
There  must  be  order  as  the  basis  of  all  right  relations ; 
and  order  consists   in  obedience  to  positive  laws,  as  a 


2  8  o  Thanksgiving. 

necessary  condition,  ordained  by  the  Almighty.  It  is  in 
this  sense,  that  the  Bible  defines  the  powers  that  be — that 
is,  civil  government — as  ordained  of  God  ;  asserting  that 
resistance  to  this  (without  just  cause)  is  resistance  to  God 
himself.  In  asserting  this,  the  inspired  Word  does  not 
represent  that  government  is  a  cast-iron,  immovable,  un- 
changeable power,  to  exist  in  all  ages  and  all  countries, 
in  one  and  the  same  form.  It  has  itself  applied  spiritual 
and  reformatory  power  which  tends  to  make  governments 
better,  more  just,  and  more  humane.  It  instructs  those 
who  govern,  that  they  too  are  under  divine  obligations  to 
act  without  wrong,  or  cruelty,  or  oppression;  and  the 
great  problem  of  society,  through  solemn  centuries,  has 
been  so  to  adjust  these  two  forces,  the  freedom  of  the 
individual  and  the  order  of  society,  as  to  secure  the 
greatest  amount  of  all  that  is  right,  and  just,  and  peace- 
ful, and  happy.  In  the  progress  of  events,  it  has  some- 
times happened  that  the  one  force  or  the  other  has  been 
in  excess ;  that  there  has  been  an  uprising  and  out- 
bursting  of  popular  liberty,  which  has  overturned  super- 
incumbent authority,  creating,  for  a  season,  confusion, 
disorder,  and  revolutionary  violence,  till  government 
could  readjust  itself  on  a  better  and  wiser  basis ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  Ruling  Power  has  often  asserted 
itself  with  such  vigor  and  severity  as  to  bear  down  all 
personal  liberty,  forbidding  all  motion,  or  peeping,  or 
protesting,  till  stimulus,  hope,  and  life,  have  died  out  of 
the  individual  man. 

Amidst  all  these  alternations  there  has  been  an  actual 
progress  through  these  compound  forces  of  freedom  and 
order.     The  pendulum   has    swung   to  and  fro,  and  the 


Liberty  and  Law.  281 

index- finger  on  the  clock  of  time  has  been  moving  on 
and  round.  It  has  been  our  boast — or,  if  the  word  sug- 
gests too  readily  the  national  fault  of  self-complacency — 
it  has  been  our  sober  belief,  that,  as  the  result  of  all  pre- 
ceding experiments,  and  the  general  improvement  of  the 
race,  under  the  auspices  of  education  and  religion,  in  our 
own  land,  at  length,  there  had  been  attained  a  form  of 
government  which  secures,  in  happiest  combination  the 
world  has  ever  seen,  the  largest  amount  of  personal  lib- 
erty, with  the  most  reliable  expression  of  order,  protect- 
ing person  and  property.  If  either  of  these  forces 
has  been  in  danger  of  running  to  excess,  it  surely  has 
not  been  severity  on  the  part  of  the  Ruling  Power. 
The  theory  of  our  form  of  civil  government  is  the  right 
of  free  men  to  govern  themselves,  by  laws  which  they 
have,  from  their  own  intelligent  choice,  themselves  enact- 
ed and  recognized.  This  peculiar  form  of  social  polity 
exists  under  what  is  called  a  constitution — a  written  con- 
stitution ;  that  is,  a  system  of  rules,  and  principles,  and 
ordinances,  by  which  the  government  shall  be  adminis- 
tered, and  these  adopted  by  the  people  themselves,  and 
not  a  gift  conferred  by  a  monarch ;  and,  to  guard  against 
all  sudden  caprices,  the  whims  and  passions  of  an  hour, 
these  rules  and  ordinances  are  engrossed  in  an  instru- 
ment, which  prescribes  the  orderly  method  by  which,  at 
any  time,  the  document  itself  may  be  altered  and  im- 
proved. 

The  principle  which  underlies  a  government  so  con- 
stituted is,  that  the  people  themselves  are  so  intelligent 
and  virtuous  that  they  can  be  trusted  with  the  power  of 
self-government.     Whether  this  be  true,  in  fact,  of  our 


282  Thanksgiving. 

own  population,  is  the  very  experiment  which  we  are  try- 
ing before  the  gaze  of  the  world.  The  theory  itself, 
whatever  the  issue  of  its  first  great  trial, — what  does  it 
leave  to  be  desired  ?  What  could  man  ask  more  than 
this  :  the  right  to  prescribe  for  himself  the  rules  and  ordi- 
nances by  which  government  shall  be  administered,  and 
the  order  of  society  shall  be  secured  ?  Could  the  imagi- 
nation of  man  go  farther  than  this  ?  The  Constitution  of 
the  British  Realm  is  not  a  written  instrument,  in  the 
hands  of  the  people,  to  be  read  in  schools ;  it  consists  in 
an  accumulation  of  historic  precedents,  of  established 
usages,  recognized  as  fundamental  law ;  but  not  written 
at  all.  For  what  has  France  been  struggling  through  all 
her  dynasties  and  revolutions,  but  that  there  should  be 
granted  to  her  some  octroyk  through  imperial  favor,  which 
would  secure  to  her  citizens  more  of  personal  right  and 
freedom?  What  more  would  Italy  desire,  sighing  for 
unity,  than  the  permission  to  govern  herself  according  to 
a  written  constitution  ?  I  will  not  speak  of  Spain  and 
Austria,  where  the  genius  of  order  has  reigned  so  long 
and  so  tyrannically,  that  individual  freedom  and  courage 
are  almost  smothered  out ;  but  how  would  Hungary  and 
Poland,  in  which  the  seed-thoughts  of  our  Protestant 
faith  have  been  planted  so  deep,  prolific  already  in  noble 
purposes  and  struggles,  how  would  they  clap  their  hands 
for  joy,  if,  at  last,  they  could  only  attain  their  long-lost, 
long-sought  right,  of  prescribing  and  administering  their 
own  constituted  government  ? 

This  privilege,  enjoyed  by  us,  is  no  sudden  attain- 
ment, but  the  fruitage  of  a  long,  slow,  deep-rooted  growth. 
It  is  the  issue  of  historic  causes.     It  has  been  purchased 


Liberty  and  Law.  283 

at  a  great  price.  We  who  enjoy  it  might  think  that  it  had 
always  been  in  existence  the  same  as  now.  In  fact,  it  is 
of  recent  origin.  At  what  a  cost  of  time,  and  heroism, 
and  martyrdom,  and  suffering,  and  blood,  has  it  passed 
into  our  hands.  Consider  what  has  already  been  accom- 
plished under  its  auspices.  It  has  secured  all  which  is 
implied  in  order,  with  the  least  possible  restraint  consist- 
ent therewith,  on  the  freedom  of  the  individual.  It  has 
wronged  no  man.  It  has  oppressed  no  man.  It  has 
never  brought  one  man  to  the  scaffold  or  the  prison  un- 
justly. It  has  secured  to  a  vast  population  all  their 
rights.  Through  this  large  domain  any  man — nay,  any 
woman — could  travel,  unmolested,  without  espionage, 
without  passports,  and  without  a  suspicion  of  harm.  All 
forms  of  lawful  business  were  protected,  and  avast  nation 
had  started  forth  in  a  career  of  unprecedented  prosperity, 
with  no  kind  of  restraint  save  what  they  had  imposed  on 
themselves  for  their  own  peace  and  comfort,  as  if  to  show 
to  the  world,  at  last,  what  a  people  could  be  and  do,  un- 
der the  auspices  of  freedom,  industry,  education,  and 
religion.  Surely,  if  ever  there  was  a  people  under  every 
conceivable  obligation  to  love  their  country,  to  obey 
its  laws,  to  be  loyal  to  its  constitution,  it  is  the  people  of 
these  United  States.  If  the  Word  of  God,  fresh  from 
its  inspired  origin,  abounds  with  commands  to  "  honor 
the  king,"  to  "  obey  magistrates,"  to  revere  authority,  to 
pray  for  all  who  represent  the  ruling  power,  when  that 
ruling  power  existed  in  the  shape  of  heathen  emperors, 
irresponsible  and  despotic,  what  emphasis  belongs  to  the 
same  precepts  in  this  stage  of  society,  when  government, 
constituted   by   the   people   themselves,   represents   the 


284  Thanksgiving. 

heaven-born  law  of  order,  with  the   very  minimum   of 
restraint  upon  personal  liberty  ? 

Our  question  is  answered ;  not  on  grounds  of  mere 
policy  and  expediency,  but  by  the  eternal  laws  of  Provi- 
dence, and  the  principles  of  revealed  religion.  To  do 
that  which  is  right  in  our  own  eyes,  without  regard  to 
lawful  order,  is  to  strike  ruthlessly  at  the  vitals  of  society, 
and  demolish  the  necessary  safeguards  of  all  human  in- 
terests and  possessions. 

That  there  is  a  right  reserved  to  nations  to  change 
and  revolutionize  civil  government,  we  concede.  But 
that  right,  like  every  other,  must  be  justified  by  morality. 
It  exists  only  when  government  has  been  perverted  from 
its  proper  ends,  to  such  a  -degree  that  redress  can  be  ob- 
tained in  no  other  way.  It  is  when  the  wrongs  perpetrated 
by  government  are  mortal  and  incurable ;  so  that  the 
very  principle  of  order  which  the  State  represents,  the 
very  ideas  of  justice  and  right  and  humanity  and  happiness 
which  are  symbolized  by  the  Ruling  Power,  demand  a 
change  to  be  made,  even  at  the  expense  of  a  temporary 
inconvenience,  peril,  and  suffering ;  a  parenthetical  evil  for 
the  sake  of  an  ulterior  good  ;  amputation  and  cautery  for 
the  sake  of  the  life.  Till  such  a  case  is  presented,  every 
act  of  resistance  to  civil  government  is  denounced  as  im- 
moral and  unchristian. 

What  is  the  cause  assigned  for  this  revolutionary 
movement  ?  Was  it  incurable  through  constitutional 
processes  ?  Was  it  of  such  a  grievous  nature  that  there 
was  no  remedy  to  be  hoped  for  through  the  ballot-box, 
legislature,  and  the  judiciary  ?  Was  it  of  such  a  deep- 
seated  and  malignant  character  that  it  became  necessary, 


Liberty  and  Law.  285 

for  the  sake  of  the  common  good,  to  incur  all  the  risks 
and  expenditures,  perils,  sufferings,  and  woes  of  Revolu- 
tion and  War,  that  it  might  be  extirpated  ? 

As  these  questions  have  been  asked,  so  must  they  be 
answered  before  all  the  civilization  of  the  world.  Con- 
temporary nations  await  the  plea,  and  posterity  will  pro- 
nounce its  judgment.  Manifestoes,  declarations  setting 
forth  the  reasons  for  the  act,  have  already  been  issued  by 
some  who  have  taken  part  in  it.  Others  have  contented 
themselves  with  falling  back  upon  certain  alleged  rights, 
without  assigning  any  reason  at  all,  failing  to  plead  at  the 
bar  of  public  judgment.  That  these  reasons  are  inade- 
quate, and  some  of  them  contradictory ;  that,  compared 
with  the  issues  involved,  all  of  them  are  frivolous,  will,  I 
think,  be  conceded  by  all  who  pronounce  a  calm  and 
dispassionate  verdict,  and  who  have  little  heart  to  deal  in 
mere  invective  and  denunciation.  To  say  the  least,  such 
an  attempt  to  overthrow  the  government  of  ths  country 
was  gratuitous ;  altogether  unnecessary,  in  view  of  any 
real  or  imaginary  wrong ;  and  if  gratuitous  and  unneces- 
sary, how  criminal  and  wicked.1* 

The  question  forced  upon  an  incredulous  and  reluctant 
country,  was  nothing  but  the  existence  of  its  own  nation- 

*  The  best  testimony  on  this  subject,  because  removed  from  the 
possibility  of  prejudice  or  misjudgment,  has  been  presented  in  two 
addresses,  on  two  occasions,  by  the  same  person,  the  Vice-President 
of  the  Southern  Confederacy.  In  the  first,  delivered  in  the  State  of 
Georgia,  when  discussing  before  his  fellow-citizens  the  right  and  ex- 
pediency of  secession,  he  denounced  the  act  as  unnecessary,  and 
ruinous  ;  declaring  the  whole  project  to  be  the  scheme  of  ambitious 
and  disappointed  politicians.     The  second,  delivered  more  recently, 


286  Thanksgiving. 

ality.  That  there  had  been  a  highly  exasperated  feeling, 
which  was  to  be  deplored,  was  true.  But  if  this  was  to 
be  allowed  as  adequate  cause  for  disruption,  why  might 
not  some  other  excitement  and  displeasure  in  some  other 
direction  prompt  other  States  to  fly  off  at  a  tangent  and 
array  themselves  as  foreign  and  hostile  bodies  ?  The 
difficulty  lies  in  this — that  we  are  to  be  forced  to  recognize 
a  right  of  voluntary  withdrawal ;  which  implied  of  necessity 
national  suicide.  If  one  part  could  withdraw,  why  not 
another  ?  Nay,  facts  already  show  that  the  question  was 
not  to  be  confined  to  States,  but  that  one  portion  of  a 
State  could  claim  a  right  to  separate  from  the  rest.  If 
States  from  States,  why  not  counties  from  States,  and 
towns  and  cities  from  counties,  and  individuals  from  towns 
— tell  us  where  this  process  of  dissolution  and  disintegra- 
tion shall  end  ?  It  has  no  end  short  of  the  destruction 
of  the  whole  social  system — the  dissolving  away  into 
chaos  of  that  constituted  order,  which  is  the  definition 
and  purpose  of  the  State,  leaving  the  dismembered  parts 
to  a  condition  of  anarchy ;  every  man  doing  that  which 

after  he  had  himself  been  swept  into  the  vortex  of  which  he  had 
warned  others  so  earnestly  before,  in  which  he  has  given  us  an  elabo- 
rate declaration  of  reasons,  aiming  even  at  a  philosophical  analysis 
and  defence  of  the  new  Republic,  asserting  that  slavery,  as  a  normal 
condition,  was  its  corner-stone ;  that  this  indeed  was  contrary  to  the 
opinions  of  Washington  and  the  fathers  of  the  country,  and  that  it 
had  been  reserved  for  this  day  to  discover  this  truth,  as  the  basis, 
religious  and  philosophical,  of  a  new  social  organization.  And  here 
he  rests  his  plea.  It  is  not  strange  that  when  this  address  was  re- 
published in  the  city  of  Paris,  by  an  American  citizen,  it  was  pro- 
nounced by  the  Press  a  forgery,  not  to  be  credited  till  authenticated 
by  the  affidavit  of  a  French  consul  ! 


Liberty  and  Law.  287 

is  right  in  his  own  eyes.  The  curtailing  of  our  national 
domain  is  not  the  question ;  the  circumscribing  of  our 
vast  domains  is  not  the  issue — that  might  humiliate, 
but  it  could  be  borne ;  the  life  of  our  nationality  might 
still  be  intact.  But  the  tremendous  question  is — and  we 
cannot  evade  it — how  the  right  of  voluntary  separation,  at 
mere  will,  upon  mere  feeling,  can  be  conceded  to  the 
several  parts,  larger  and  smaller,  without  consenting  to  a 
principle  which  would  be  sure  to  recur  again  in  other 
issues,  and  at  some  other  caprice,  till  the  whole  civil 
polity,  the  entire  social  fabric,  had  crumbled  to  pieces. 
The  question  on  trial,  therefore,  is  the  very  existence  of 
lawful  government, — and  that  government,  the  very  one 
which  has  made  us  the  envy  of  so  large  a  part  of  the 
world — self-government,  under  the  auspices  of  liberty  and 
virtue. 

This  is  the  issue  which  is  now  joined.  It  is  not  a 
warfare  of  one  section  against  another.  It  is  not  a  war- 
fare against  slavery,  however,  directly  or  indirectly,  that 
may  be  involved  in  it.  We  hold  ourselves  still  bound  by 
constitutional  obligations  on  this  as  on  all  other  subjects. 
It  is  not  a  warfare  for  political  ascendancy,  for  partisan 
preferences.  It  is  not  a  warfare  for  territorial  conquest, 
for  the  lust  of  subjugation.  The  very  idea  is  as  absurd 
as  for  the  eye  to  attempt  to  conquer  the  ear,  or  the  foot 
to  subjugate  the  hand.  It  is  simply,  solely,  honestly,  for 
the  defence  of  constitutional  government,  as  the  only 
breakwater  against  inevitable  faction  and  feud  j  the  only 
surety  for  order  and  justice  and  humanity.  It  is  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  common  weal ;  the  health  and  vigor 
and  life  of  the  whole  nationality.     It  is  to  uphold  what 


288  Thanksgiving. 

we  believe  is  of  essential  service  and  benefit  to  all  alike. 
It  is  to  decide  whether  we  can  abide  in  peace  and  unity, 
under  lawful  magistracy,  or  whether,  at  every  gust  of  pas- 
sion, or  every  whim  of  feeling,  we  are  to  be  dismembered 
into  contemptible  factions,  and  dissolve  away  into  abso- 
lute lawlessness.  Nothing  is  demanded  of  one  member 
of  the  body  which  is  not  demanded  of  all.  Nothing  is 
demanded  of  any,  more  humiliating  or  more  unreasonable 
than  subjection  to  those  self-imposed  laws  which  have 
conferred  on  the  whole  country  such  boundless  prosperity, 
and  which  have  never  inflicted  a  wrong  on  any. 

This  is,  as  I  believe,  the  one  issue,  in  view  of  which 
we  are  now  making  history  for  ourselves  and  the  world. 
We  must  meet  it  in  the  spirit  nurtured  by  our  religion. 
We  must  meet  it  with  the  temper  of  men  who  have  been 
taught  in  the  school  of  Christ,  to  bear  all  personal  affronts 
with  meekness — smitten  on  the  one  cheek,  to  turn  the 
other  also  ;  but  who,  when  great  interests  are  at  stake  for 
posterity  and  for  the  race,  are  inspired  by  an  unselfish 
and  manly  energy,  counselled  by  our  religious  faith,  to 
withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and,  having  done  all,  to  stand. 
War  is,  indeed,  a  tremendous  necessity.  Gladly  would  we 
have  cut  off  our  right  hands,  and  plucked  out  our  right 
eyes,  if  we  could  have  spared  our  native  land  the  direful 
visitation.  Since  these  events  have  come  upon  us,  since 
we  are  not  spared  the  trials  which  we  had  fondly  believed 
belonged  only  to  the  past  and  the  remote,  let  us  seek  to 
extract  the  lessons  which  will  secure  for  us  a  better  and 
wiser  prosperity.  There  has  been  a  too  general  laxity  of 
habit  in  regard  to  law.  As  a  people,  we  have  erred  before 
God  in  this  respect.     It  has  not  been  in  one  latitude  alone 


Liberty  and  Law.  289 

that  men  have  trifled  with  legal  authority,  and  evinced  a 
disposition  to  spurn  control.  That  Liberty  which  we  have 
almost  defied,  has  been  conceived,  with  a  flushed  cheek, 
and  loose  ungirded  dress,  conferring  license  on  her  wor- 
shippers to  do  as  they  willed.  The  Liberty  which  we 
honor,  is  a  reverend  form,  the  first-born  of  Virtue,  wedded 
to  order,  girded  with  truth,  with  a  chaste  smile,  and  a 
strong  right  arm.  If  it  must  be  that  our  faith  in  the 
capacity  of  self-government,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Christian  religion,  is  to  be  tried  by  fire,  then  let  it  be 
tried,  but  not  consumed.  Sir  Archibald  Alison  has  pro- 
nounced the  American  Constitution  a  failure,  and  recom- 
mends a  national  Church  and  a  national  monarchy  as  the 
remedy.  History  does  not  roll  backward  after  this  man- 
ner, but  onward  always,  purifying  itself  as  it  flows,  by  the 
effervescence  of  contrary  qualities.  Our  faith  does  not 
lead  us  to  abandon  our  nationality  as  a  failure  ;  it  only 
instructs  us,  if  it  need  be  by  fire,  then,  so  as  by  fire,  to 
purify  its  properties,  and  amend  its  defects.  Grateful  for 
the  memories  of  the  past,  with  no  bend  of  shame  in  our 
coat-armorial,  hopeful  for  the  future,  with  an  ever-increas- 
ing trust  in  Divine  Providence  as  our  distinctive  quality, 
we  look  forward  and  upward,  above  and  beyond  the  dun 
smoke  of  the  battle-cloud,  to  a  more  serene  and  tranquil 
sky,  which  sooner  or  later  is  sure  to  come.  We  will  pray 
and  hope  and  look  for  nothing  worse  than  this — that  the 
whole  population  of  these  United  States  may  gladly  sub- 
jugate themselves  to  constituted  law ;  that  nothing  may 
be  defeated  but  that  which  imperils  the  good  of  all ;  that 
nothing  may  rise  to  the  ascendancy  but  that  which  is 
right  and  just  and  humane  ;  that  all  causes,  come  whence 
13 


290  Thanksgiving. 

they  may,  which  tend  to  exasperate  and  irritate  and  vex, 
may  be  removed,  and  that  the  people  in  every  portion  of 
the  continent,  identified  in  history,  in  interest,  and  in 
hope,  may  study  the  things  whereby  they  may  edify  one 
another  j  that  peace,  on  such  a  basis,  and  with  such  pur- 
poses, may  speedily  return,  so  that,  as  the  tender  grass 
springeth  up  after  the  rain,  all  that  blesses  and  beautifies 
life  may  reappear  with  a  fresher  and  surer  growth  ;  that 
confidence  and  credit,  scared  away  by  the  noise  of  arms, 
may  return ;  that  suspicion  and  fear  may  fly  away  for- 
ever ;  that  commerce  and  all  the  arts  of  peaceful  life  may 
resume  their  wonted  channels ;  that  education  and  reli- 
gion may  bestow  on  all  their  divine  blessings  and  strength ; 
that  liberty  may  grant  and  secure  the  privilege  to  do  all 
that  is  right  and  good,  and  that  only ;  so  that  the  sun 
may  reappear  holding  its  steady  sway  along  the  western 
sky,  neither  going  backwards,  nor  hiding  itself  in  clouds  : 
but  as  the  vapors  which  strive  in  vain  to  conceal  the 
heavenly  luminary  along  its  daily  path,  become  after- 
wards the  instrument  of  reflecting  its  light,  in  most  glo- 
rious effulgence,  so  will  we  hope,  believe,  and  pray,  that 
all  the  trials  through  which  we  are  now  passing,  or  are 
destined  yet  to  pass,  will  only  contribute  to  enhance  the 
glory,  which,  according  to  the  word  of  the  Almighty,  is 
sure  to  come  in  the  Latter  Day. 


INDEPENDENCE    NOT    SECESSION. 


In  righteousness  doth  he  judge  and  make  war. 

Rev.  19  :  11. 
Manus  haec  inimica  tyrannis 
Ense  petit  placidam  sub  libertate  quietam. 

Algernon  Sydney. 


XIV. 

INDEPENDENCE  NOT  SECESSION. 

It  is  common  to  celebrate  the  birth  of  our  national 
independence  with  every  demonstration  of  popular  joy. 
So  it  was  predicted  by  one  of  the  authors  of  the  im- 
mortal Declaration — it  would  always  be  celebrated  with 
bonfires,  and  illuminations,  ringing  of  bells,  and  salvos 
of  artillery. 

Special  reasons  gave  to  this  anniversary,  the  present 
year,*  an  extraordinary  zest  and  importance.  We  have 
reached  a  new  epoch  in  our  national  existence.  We 
have  passed  through  a  second  birth.  Delivered  from 
great  perils  and  pains,  we  are  just  entering  a  new  period 
of  our  history.  Not  less  important  is  the  termination  of 
our  great  civil  war,  than  was  the  beginning  of  our  inde- 
pendent nationality.  Separated  by  an  interval  of  nearly 
a  century,  the  two  events  are  immediately  related.  They 
have  their  resemblances  and  their  contrasts.  Both  are 
part  of  one  great  historic  development.  "  Deep  answers 
unto  deep  at  the  noise  of  God's  water-spouts."  Our  na- 
tion's birth  and  our  nation's  vindication  are  connected 


1865. 


294  Thanksgiving. 

directly  with  human  rights,  liberty,  and  welfare  ;  and  are 
important  acts  in  the  progress  of  the  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  on  the  earth. 

As  such,  they  deserve  to  be  celebrated,  most  devout- 
ly, by  an  intelligent  and  religious  people.  They  demand 
something  more  of  us  than  holiday  amusements,  and 
noise,  and  pageantry,  and  exuberance  of  animal  spirits. 
There  should  be  a  thoughtful  consideration  of  causes, 
and  principles,  and  divine  laws.  There  should  be  a 
wise  looking  at  the  past  and  the  future.  Above  all, 
there  should  be  a  most  devout  study  of  divine  providence 
— its  unfoldings  and  intentions  in  connection  with  our 
history.  We  cannot  adjust  ourselves  wisely  and  vigor- 
ously to  our  duties  as  citizens  in  this  Christian  Republic, 
if  we  are  not  well  informed  as  to  the  principles  of  divine 
jurisprudence  which  are  to  be  acknowledged  in  our  pecu- 
liar nationality. 

While  Washington  commanded  that  the  manifesto  of 
national  independence  should  be  read  at  the  head  of 
every  division  of  the  army,  the  clergy,  of  their  own  im- 
pulse, performed  the  same  office,  with  a  very  general 
unanimity,  from  their  pulpits. 

Those  who  aided  and  abetted  the  recent  rebellion,  at 
home  and  abroad,  claimed  that  it  had,  for  its  origin  and 
defence,  the  same  rights  and  principles  as  those  which 
were  involved  in  that  Revolution  which  secured  to  us 
independence  from  the  Old  World,  and  which  is  now  uni- 
versally celebrated  as  an  act  of  wisdom,  and  righteous- 
ness, and  honor.  Was  the  one  event  right  because  it 
was  successful?  Is  the  other  to  be  branded  as  crime 
merely  because  it  was  defeated?     Or,  did  the  one  sue- 


Independence  not  Secession.  295 

ceed  because  it  was  right,  and  did  the  other  fail  be- 
cause it  was  wrong?  What  are  the  laws  of  right  and 
wrong  as  applicable  to  such  subjects?  What  are  the 
principles,  in  the  code  of  Christian  ethics,  which  make 
one  revolution  rightful  and  obligatory,  and  another 
criminal  and  unjustifiable  ?  Surely,  we  are  in  a  most  for- 
lorn condition  if  we  are  not  able  to  render  a  good  and 
sufficient  answer  to  questions  like  these.  Such  matters 
should  not  be  left  to  caprice,  to  prejudice,  to  passion. 
They  come  within  the  range  of  divine  laws.  These  laws 
are  capable  of  exact  statement.  We  cheerfully  undertake 
to  define  them.  We  hold  that  what  is  generally  known 
in  history  as  the  American  Revolution — the  act  of  separa- 
tion from  the  British  Government — was  right,  not  because 
it  succeeded,  but  that  it  succeeded  because  it  was  right 
— right  in  itself,  right  in  accordance  with  divine  laws  ; 
and  therefore  it  deserves  to  be  commemorated  with 
gratitude,  and  all  who  accomplished  it  with  immortal 
honor.  We  hold  that  the  recent  attempt  to  revolutionize 
the  government  of  this  country  was  wrong,  criminal,  un- 
justifiable, notwithstanding  the  numbers  even  of  good 
men  who  were  involved  in  it ;  that  in  its  inception,  and 
in  its  progress,  it  was  at  variance  with  the  revealed  law 
of  God ;  and  that  it  has  been  overtaken  by  defeat,  and 
will  be  remembered  as  an  offence,  because  it  was  gratui- 
tous, and  against  the  statutes  of  the  Almighty.  Such  lan- 
guage might  pass  for  mere  breath,  if  unsupported  by 
proof.  Proof  we  propose  to  furnish.  It  will  be  my  ob- 
ject, in  this  chapter,  to  verify  the  statements  now  made ; 
presenting,  in  form,  the  contrasts  between  the  two  great 
events  in  our  history — the  first  and  the  latest — with  the 


296  Thanksgiving. 

reasons  which  crowned  the  one  with  success  and  glory, 
and  doomed  the  other  to  defeat  and  ignominy.  Sad  for 
us  and  for  the  world  will  it  be,  if  we  do  not  rightly  in- 
terpret the  lesson  which  has  been  uttered  in  the  terrific 
voices  of  war,  and  written,  large  and  distinct,  in  human 
blood. 

We  begin  what  we  have  to  propose  on  this  subject 
with  the  inspired  affirmation  that  government  is  a  divine 
ordinance.  "The  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God." 
We  are  all  aware  of  the  manner  in  which  this  doctrine  of 
revelation  has  been  perverted  and  abused.  Despots  have 
cited  it  as  the  basis  of  their  authority.  Nothing  is  here 
said  or  implied  as  to  the  form  of  government.  The  ex- 
pression is  very  general.  The  reference  is  simply  to 
government.  Civil  government  is  a  power  for  human 
protection.  The  authority  for  such  a  power  proceeds 
from  the  Almighty,  who  has  ordained  that  society  could 
not  exist  without  it.  It  does  not  spring,  therefore,  in  an 
ultimate  sense,  from  the  consent  of  the  governed.  Surely, 
the  right  of  parental  government  does  not  proceed  from 
the  consent  of  the  child,  who  is  born  under  domestic 
authority.  It  results  from  the  will  and  ordinance  of  God. 
The  object  of  government  is,  not  the  aggrandizement  of 
those  who  administer  it,  but  the  welfare  of  those  over 
whom  it  is  extended.  It  is  an  agent  for  human  protec- 
tion, security,  and  well-being.  Divine  benevolence  being 
its  authorship,  human  happiness  is  its  object  and  end. 

From  these  premises  we  infer,  first,  the  duty  of  obey- 
ing and  conserving  and  honoring  civil  government,  so 
long  as  it  is  administered  with  reference  to  its  prescribed 
object ;  and,  secondly,  the  right  and  the  duty  of  modifying 


Independence  not  Secession.  297 

and  changing  government  when  it  is  perverted  from  its 
ordained  uses  into  an  instrument  of  wrong  and  oppres- 
sion, and  organizing  a  new  and  better  form  of  adminis- 
tration which  will  conform  to  the  legitimate  intentions 
of  civil  government.  These  premises  and  inferences 
cover  the  whole  ground  pertaining  to  our  subject.  They 
prove  the  right  of  revolution  in  certain  circumstances. 
They  define  the  circumstances  in  which  alone  revolution 
is  right.  They  inform  us  when  attempts  at  revolution 
are  wrong,  a  crime  against  society  and  against  God. 

The  right  to  revolutionize  government  inheres  in  the 
very  purpose  of  government.  Mark  the  word  :  to  revo- 
lutionize government,  not  to  abolish  government,  not  to 
destroy  all  government,  since  the  necessity  of  some  gov- 
ernment is  a  divine  ordinance  for  human  welfare  ;  but 
to  change  its  form,  its  method  of  jurisdiction — removing 
one  and  substituting  in  its  place  another  which  is  better. 

When  is  it  right  to  revolutionize  government  ?  We 
answer  :  when  the  existing  government  has  so  far  failed  of 
its  legitimate  object  as  to  be  an  instrument  of  wrong,  un- 
righteousness, and  suffering.  Then,  and  then  only,  is  it 
right  and  proper,  in  accordance  with  the  divine  law  of 
benevolence,  that  it  should  be  altered  and  set  aside,  and 
another  form  of  government  organized,  which  will  the 
better  promote  the  protection,  safety,  and  happiness  of 
the  people.  The  process  of  change  may  require  suffer- 
ing. It  may  involve  an  appeal  to  arms,  and  the  shedding 
of  blood  ;  but  the  result  contemplated, — redress  of  wrong, 
the  removal  of  evils,  the  increase  of  happiness,  the  greater 
good  of  the  whole, — justifies  the  stern  and  violent  pro- 
ceeding. Christian  Benevolence  smiles  on  an  act  which, 
13* 


298  Thanksgiving. 

proceeding  from  such  a  motive,  tends  to  such  an  issue, 
and  honors  it  with  her  blessing  and  sanction. 

Such,  we  hold,  were  the  circumstances  which  justified 
the  American  Revolution,  and  shed  immortal  renown 
upon  those  who  conducted  and  accomplished  it.  It  did 
not  spring  from  mere  passion.  It  had  a  better  basis  than 
a  simple  preference.  Our  fathers  did  not  rebel  against 
the  mother-country  because  they  did  not  like  a  monarchy, 
and  because  they  thought  they  should  like  another  form 
of  government.  Many  of  them  were  strongly  attached  to 
the  ancient  traditions  of  the  ancestral  land.  They  had 
no  desire  to  inaugurate  a  new  and  independent  govern- 
ment, provided  the  evils  from  which  they  suffered  could 
be  redressed.  They  began  with  protesting  against  those 
evils.  They  desired  that  they  should  be  reformed  and 
abolished.  They  remonstrated  against  abuses.  They 
expostulated  with  the  British  Parliament  and  King.  They 
were  not  wild  and  malignant  insurgents.  They  were 
reformers,  in  the  best  sense.  They  knew  not  when  they 
began  how  far  their  protestations  would  lead.  They  pe- 
titioned, they  entreated.  They  sought  for  relief.  They 
were  subject  to  wrongs  which  amounted  to  oppression. 
There  were  those  in  the  British  Parliament  who  them- 
selves protested  against  the  wrongs  inflicted  upon  the 
American  Colonies.  The  eloquence  with  which  Chatham 
plead  the  cause  of  our  fathers,  insisting  on  their  rights, 
still  echoes  in  the  annals  of  the  British  Senate.  But  all 
these  remonstrances  and  expostulations  were  in  vain. 
Redress  was  denied.  At  length,  the  evils  complained  of 
reached  such  an  enormity,  that  the  duty  and  wisdom  of 
resistance  were  revolved  by  our  fathers.     They  did  not 


Independence  not  Secession.  299 

precipitate  revolution.  They  weighed  well  the  cost.  In 
their  immortal  manifesto  they  acknowledged  that  "  exist- 
ing governments  should  not  be  changed  for  light  and 
transient  causes."  They  regarded  it  as  better  to  suffer 
wrong,  while  the  wrong  was  tolerable,  than  to  expose  the 
country  to  all  the  sufferings  and  woes  of  revolution.  But 
when  abuses  and  usurpations  were  so  multiplied  as  to 
prove  that  the  government  which  originated  them  was 
perverted  into  an  instrument  of  oppression,  they  could 
not  evade  the  conviction,  that  it  was  their  duty  to  set  it 
aside,  and  provide  other  methods  and  agencies  for  their 
security.  Then  was  it  that  they  made  their  appeal  to 
God,  and  to  the  "judgment  of  mankind."  They  made 
an  expression  of  the  reasons  which  justified  their  re- 
sistance to  the  long-established  government,  and  their 
purpose  to  provide  another.  This  was  the  design  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence — to  assign  the  reasons 
which  impelled  them  to  make  this  painful  and  violent 
separation.  Those  reasons,  as  they  are  recorded  in  the 
immortal  document,  are  twenty-seven  in  number.  We 
hold  that  they  are  good  and  sufficient.  They  are  of 
such  a  character  as  indicate  a  radical  perversion  of  civil 
government.  They  prove  that  the  government  by  which 
those  wrongs  were  perpetrated,  instead  of  being  an 
agency  to  protect  and  to  bless,  was  itself  an  instrument 
of  tremendous  mischief.  Its  perversion  was  so  complete 
and  incurable,  that  nothing  remained  for  good  men  and 
true  but  to  set  it  aside,  and  adopt  what  was  better. 
Their  action  was  prompted  by  no  antipathy  of  races,  by 
no  prejudice  of  classes,  by  no  impulse  of  passion,  by  no 
ambition  of  power.      It  was  a  calm,  intelligent,  rational 


300  Thanksgiving, 

conviction  on  their  part  that  the  government  under  which 
they  had  lived  had  so  far  failed  of  the  object  for  which 
government  was  instituted,  that  the  common  welfare, 
benevolence  itself,  demanded  that  a  change  should  be 
made,  by  a  revolution  which  might  cost  sacrifice,  suffer- 
ing, and  blood.  We  do  not  propose  to  repeat,  compare, 
and  weigh,  the  several  reasons  assigned  by  our  fathers, 
for  the  assertion  of  their  independence.  They  are  all  on 
record.  The  wrongs  of  which  they  complained  were  not 
superficial.  They  imply  a  total  subversion  of  the  divine 
ends  of  government.  Instead  of  being  an  organized 
power  to  protect,  to  bless,  it  was  an  armed  power  to  irri- 
tate, annoy,  oppress,  and  curse.  And  for  those  radical 
mischiefs  there  was  only  one  radical  and  efficient  cure. 
The  government  itself  must  be  thrown  aside,  and  another, 
just  and  benignant,  be  organized  in  its  stead.  This  was 
what  our  fathers  undertook  and  accomplished  in  the 
American  Revolution.  Their  acts  stand  approved  by  the 
divine  law  of  love.  It  is  justified  by  the  legislation  of 
Him  who  is  the  ordainer  of  governments  for  man's  welfare. 
That  which  is  the  end  and  design  of  government  was  the 
warrant  for  the  change  of  government.  The  men  who 
inaugurated  the  Revolution  were  called  by  the  parent 
government — rebels.  We  regard  them  as  reformers, 
righteous  and  heroic  ;  and  applaud  their  doing,  not  for 
its  success,  but  for  the  great  principles  and  laws  of 
benevolence  which  prompted  and  conducted  the  achieve- 
ment in  the  interests  of  human  rights  and  human  happi- 
ness. 

We  pass  now  over  an  interval  of  fourscore  years,  to 
the  recent  attempt  to  revolutionize  the  government  of 


Independence  not  Secession.  301 

this  nation,  from  which  we  have  so  recently  emerged. 
That  the  government  founded  by  the  people  of  this  coun- 
try, nearly  a  century  ago,  was  absolutely  perfect,  it  would 
be  false  to  affirm.  That  it^as  good,  perhaps  the  best 
which  in  the  circumstances  could  have  been  constructed ; 
that  it  was  just,  and  liberal,  and  benignant ;  that  its  aim 
was  to  promote  the  general  welfare  ;  that  it  was,  in  fact, 
administered  through  a  series  of  years,  in  the  spirit  with 
which  it  was  organized  ;  that,  through  all  changes  of  party 
and  organs,  it  looked  to  the  rights  and  security  and  good 
of  the  country,  in  the  general  tone  of  its  action:  these 
are  facts  which  we  affirm  to  be  true,  beyond  all  question 
or  contradiction.  These  are  the  things  which  have  made 
our  government  the  theme  of  general  panegyric.  We 
will  not  now  compare  it  with  other  governments.  We  will 
not  expose  ourselves  to  the  imputation  of  lauding  it  with 
indiscriminate  eulogy.  It  is  enough  that  we  take  these 
facts  for  our  premises  :  that  the  American  Government 
was  to  be  regarded  as  the  divine  ordinance  for  the  good 
of  the  American  people ;  that  it  actually  accomplished 
the  end  for  which  it  was  instituted  ;  and  that,  therefore, 
it  was  the  religious  duty  of  all  to  conserve  and  honor  it, 
until  it  could  be  demonstrated  that  it  was  so  perverted  in 
spirit  and  acts,  that  the  law  of  benevolence  demanded 
that  it  should  be  revolutionized  and  overthrown. 

It  is  from  these  premises  that  we  start  in  our  religious 
reasoning.  Was  the  American  Government  an  instru- 
ment of  wrong  and  oppression  ?  Did  it  fail  of  the  object 
for  which  civil  government  is  ordained  of  God  ?  Who 
ever  pretended  that  it  did  ?  Dissatisfaction  has  frequent- 
ly arisen  in  view  of  particular  measures.     Parties  and 


3  o  2  Thanksgiving. 

sections  have  been  disaffected  by  the  failure  of  favorite 
projects.  When  majorities  rule,  minorities  will  always 
grumble  and  complain.  But  who  has  ever  alleged  that 
the  Federal  Government  of  this  great  nation  was  an  in- 
strument of  mischief,  of  oppression,  and  of  wrong  !  To 
prove  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  that  no  such  necessity 
existed,  as  did  exist  in  that  original  Revolution  we  com- 
memorate, we  confine  om  selves  to  a  few  witnesses,  whose 
testimony  cannot  be  ascribed  to  prejudice. 

The  first  of  these  is  Mr.  Jefferson  Davis,  who,  in  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States,  in  the  year  i860,  used  these 
words  :  "  This  is  the  best  Government  ever  instituted  by 
man,  unexceptionally  administered,  and  under  which  the 
people  have  been  prosperous  beyond  comparison  with 
any  other  people  whose  career  has  been  recorded  in 
history." 

The  second  is  Mr.  Alexander  H.  Stephens,  of 
Georgia,  who,  in  the  year  186 1,  expressed  himself,  in  the 
convention  of  his  own  State,  as  follows  :  "  I  must  declare 
here,  as  I  have  often  before,  what  has  been  repeated  by 
the  greatest  and  wisest  of  statesmen  and  patriots  in  this 
and  other  lands,  that  the  American  Government  is  the 
best  and  purest,  the  most  equal  in  its  rights,  the  most 
just  in  its  decisions,  the  most  lenient  in  its  measures,  and 
most  aspiring  in  its  principles  to  elevate  the  race  of  men, 
that  the  sun  of  heaven  has  ever  shone  upon.  Now,  for 
you  to  attempt  to  overthrow  such  a  Government  as  this, 
under  which  we  have  lived  for  more  than  three  quarters 
of  a  century,  in  which  we  have  gained  our  wealth,  our 
standing  as  a  nation,  our  domestic  safety  while  the  ele- 
ments of  peril  are  around  us,  with  peace  and  tranquillity, 


Independence  not  Secession.  303 

accompanied  with  unbounded  prosperity  and  rights  un- 
assailed,  is  the  height  of  madness,  folly,  and  wickedness." 

The  third  is  Henry  A.  Wise,  then  Governor  of  Vir- 
ginia, who,  in  the  year  1859,  sending  this  sentiment  to  a 
public  gathering  in  Richmond :  "  The  Union  and  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States  as  they  are— the  coun- 
try, the  whole  country  " —  descants,  even  to  rhapsody,  on 
the  magnificence  of  the  idea  thus  embodied,  which  made 
"  him,  an  unit,  the  possessor  of  the  whole  Union  with  its 
pride,  and  its  greatness,  and  its  immortal  annals,"  con- 
cluding with  these  words  :  "  If  any  would  not  love  such  a 
country,  let  him  have  no  country  to  love  ;  and  if  any 
would  array  this  country's  parts  against  each  other  in  sec- 
tional division  and  strife,  let  them  have  no  inheritance  in 
the  whole — the  grand,  great  whole — but  let  them  selfishly 
have  a  single  small  space  for  their  safe  keeping,  a  house 
made  for  treason,  felony,  or  mania,  a  prison  or  a  mad- 
house." ♦ 

This  is  testimony  from  the  right  quarter  and  of  the 
right  quality.  It  might  be  reinforced  in  the  same  line 
to  any  degree.  But  it  would  be  superfluous.  Whatever 
was  the  reason  alleged  for  the  recent  attempt  at  revolu- 
tion, it  was  not  this — that  the  American  Government  was 
so  perverted  from  the  proper  use  and  end  of  government, 
that  duty  required  that  it  should  be  changed  and  set 
aside.  If  this  reason  did  not  exist,  then  the  endeavor 
at  revolution,  we  will  not  say  on  political,  but  on  Christian 
grounds,  was  unjustifiable  and  criminal.  No  one,  to  our 
knowledge,  has  pretended  to  prove  that  such  a  reason 
existed.  There  was  any  amount  of  exasperation  because 
of  other  things  ;  recriminations  based  on  other  grounds 


304  Thanksgiving. 

were  hurled  to  and  fro  through  the  air  ;  but  who,  in  any 
part  of  this  country,  or  of  the  world,  ever  undertook  to 
show  that  the  Government  of  the  United  States  was  so 
despotic,  so  wicked,  so  cruel,  that  a  regard  for  the  general 
welfare— which  is  another  expression  for  benevolence — 
required  that  it  should  be  overthrown  ?  We  plant  our- 
selves firmly  on  this  ground.  For  the  present,  we  hold 
in  abeyance  every  other  consideration.  We  confine  our- 
selves strictly,  for  the  moment,  to  this  one.  It  is  a  ground 
on  which  all  believers  in  the  Bible,  and  all  sincere  friends 
of  order,  of  law,  of  good  government,  and  well-regulated 
liberty  throughout  the  world,  should  stand  together.  It 
is  the  ground  on  which  we  justify,  on  our  part,  the  war 
in  which  we  have  been  engaged,  in  defence  of  the  na- 
tional life.  Just  now,  we  hold  ourselves  to  this  single 
issue.  We  endeavored  to  preserve  that  government 
which  we  knew  deserved  to  be  upheld,  both  for  ourselves 
and  for  all  mankind,  against  the  assaults  of  men  who 
sought  to  destroy  it.  Reasonably  did  we  anticipate  the 
sympathy  and  support  of  all  friends  of  good  government 
throughout  the  world  in  this  righteous  struggle.  We  did 
not  expect  the  sympathy,  either  of  despots  or  anarchists. 
It  would  not  have  disappointed  us  if  the  Emperor  of  the 
French  had  withheld  his  sympathy  from  our  purpose  to 
maintain,  at  any  cost,  our  constitutional  government. 
The  world  at  large  may  have  forgotten,  in  the  brilliant 
success  of  the  man,  his  art,  his  policy,  the  tremendous 
crimes  by  which  he  vaulted  to  his  present  position  at  the 
head  of  the  Empire.  But  there  are  those,  on  both  sides 
of  the  sea,  who  will  never  forget  the  scenes  which  occurred 
in  Paris  between  the  2d  and  the  4th  days  of  December, 


Independence  not  Secession.  305 

185 1,  when  he  who  was  the  President  of  the  Republic, 
by  a  deliberate  plot,  called  a  coup  d'etat,  drenched  the 
Boulevards  with  innocent  blood,  and  stained  his  own 
name  with  the  infamy  of  perjury,  that  he  might  wear,  for 
a  season,  the  title  of  Emperor.  No  reason  was  there, 
why  we  should  have  expected  the  sympathy  of  such  a 
man,  who  had  revolutionized  the  government  of  his  own 
country  with  criminal  ambition  to  exalt  himself,  in  our 
upright  purpose  to  maintain  our  own  good  and  lawful 
government ;  but  reason  enough  there  was  why  we  should 
expect  no  qualified  sympathy  from  our  ancestral  land, 
whose  traditions  and  history  are  so  intimately  related  to 
good  government,  to  true  liberty  and  pure  religion.  Re- 
ligious assemblies  and  Parliamentary  debates  have  as- 
signed as  a  reason  why  England  stood  aloof  from  our 
defensive  struggle,  that  it  was  not  designed  nor  prosecuted 
on  our  part  with  the  intention  of  overthrowing  slavery. 
That  is  true.  This  war,  so  far  as  the  loyal  States  are 
concerned,  was  not  begun  nor  prosecuted  with  that  mo- 
tive ;  however  true  it  was,  that  slavery  ere  long  became 
involved  in  the  sweep  of  the  whirlwind.  It  is  true  that 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Northern  States  did  not  rush  to 
arms  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  slavery.  They  could 
not  have  been  united  on  that  issue.  They  were  united 
in  the  solemn  purpose  to  defend  and  perpetuate  the  Na- 
tional Government.  On  that  issue,  they  had  a  right  to 
expect  the  good  wishes  and  the  blessing  of  all  right-mind- 
ed men  throughout  the  world.  For  the  moment,  we  keep 
to  this  issue  and  no  other.  What  would  the  friends  of 
human  society,  the  friends  of  good  government — men 
who  believe  neither  in  anarchy  nor  despotism — friends 


306  Thanksgiving, 

of  order,  of  law,  of  liberty,  of  religion — what  would  they 
have  had  us  to  do,  in  the  interest  of  the  human  race,  but 
resolutely  to  resist  all  attempts  to  overthrow  a  govern- 
ment so  good  and  genial  as  our  own  ?  The  end  has  not 
come  as  yet  to  this  great  strife,  so  far  as  its  issues  are  sure 
to  affect  and  involve  the  future  of  other  nations  ;  but 
woeful  would  it  have  been  for  all  the  prospects  of  the 
world,  had  this  gratuitous  and  unjustifiable  attempt  at  rev- 
olution been  successful.  We  had  reason  to  expect  that 
all  candid  minds — freed  from  jealousy  and  from  fear — 
purified  from  the  sympathy  with  the  two  extremes  of 
tyranny  and  agrarianism — would  have  cheered,  with  one 
voice  of  approval  and  of  prayer,  this  noble  intent  to  up- 
hold, at  any  expense  of  treasure  and  blood,  this  great 
ordinance  of  God  for  human  welfare — a  government 
which,  by  universal  consent,  was  true  to  its  benevolent  in- 
tent. Where  was  the  spirit  of  Hampden  and  Russel  and 
Milton  at  that  critical  hour  ?  Why  was  it  not  given  out 
as  in  the  sound  of  many  waters  in  aid  of  a  cause  which, 
sure  as  any  truth,  involves  the  welfare  of  the  world  ?  By 
what  spell  was  it  that  in  public  life,  even  in  that  Britain 
whose  history  and  literature  are  so  affluent  in  apostrophes 
to  constitutional  law,  those  who  advocated  our  cause  with 
full-voiced  sympathy  were  so  few,  and  those  who  looked 
at  it  askant,  with  suspicion,  with  ill-concealed  disappro- 
bation, were  so  many  and  so  strong  ?  These  are  questions 
which  one  day  will  demand  an  answer.  We  intend  to 
have  it  known  that  we  are  true  to  our  ancestral  traditions  ; 
that  we  have  not  forgotten  the  lessons  of  British  history ; 
that  we  have  not  parted  with  all  faith  in  the  teachings  of 
Providence  and  Revelation  ;  that  we  threw  off  one  gov- 


Independence  not  Secession.  307 

ernment  and  undertook  one  revolution  because  that  gov- 
ernment was  perverted  into  an  instrument  of  wrong  and 
oppression  ;  and  that  we  have  defended  another  govern- 
ment and  defeated  another  revolution  because  the  gov- 
ernment was  just  and  good  and  lenient,  and  that  revolu- 
tion aimed  to  destroy  what  God  has  ordained  that  we 
should  honor  and  conserve. 

No  one  familiar  with  the  history  of  this  country  can 
question  that,  in  one  way  or  another,  slavery  was  the 
cause  of  this  recent  commotion.  To  write  out  this  his- 
tory ;  to  define  the  position  assumed  by  extreme  men  on 
either  side  ;  to  describe  the  measures  and  acts  by  which 
feeling  became  exasperated  and  inflamed,  would  be  super- 
fluous. We  content  ourselves  with  repeating  the  remark, 
that  the  destruction  of  slavery  was  not  the  motive  which 
united  the  loyal  States  of  the  country  to  commence  and 
prosecute  the  expensive  war  which  God  has  crowned 
with  success ;  but,  inasmuch  as  they  who  inaugurated 
armed  rebellion  against  the  National  Government  risked 
this  institution  of  slavery  on  the  issue  of  the  war,  by  a 
series  of  events  which  were  foreseen  by  none  at  the  be- 
ginning, but  which  now  appear  to  all  as  the  special  inter- 
position of  Providence,  that  system  which  was  the  root 
of  all  our  public  calamities,  has  been,  by  universal  belief 
and  consent,  utterly  abolished,  and  the  whole  land — North, 
South,  East,  West — admitting  it  now,  will  rejoice  in  it  with 
universal  gladness.  God  has  wrought  more  than  man 
had  devised. 

The  completeness,  the  thoroughness  of  this  victory  in 
behalf  of  good  government,  is  amazing.  Nothing  like  it 
is  to  be  found  in  history,  when  we  consider  the  extent 


308  Thanksgiving. 

of  our  territory  and  the  numbers  arrayed  on  either  side. 
Of  one  thing  now,  we  are  assured — the  respect,  the  honor, 
the  gratitude  of  all  liberal  minds,  and  all  friends  of  free 
government  throughout  the  world.  Our  cause  is  their 
cause.  None  have  occasion  to  regret  the  issue  of  this 
war,  but  those  who  were  apprehensive  of  the  growth  of 
liberal  ideas  and  just  principles  in  reference  to  civil  gov- 
ernment. The  common  people  throughout  the  whole  of 
the  Eastern  hemisphere,  earnest  for  governments  which 
will  protect  and  bless  them,  heard  of  it  gladly.  The 
great  leaders  of  religious  and  civil  liberty  throughout  the 
world  have  made  it  the  occasion  of  eulogy  and  of  thanks. 
None  are  more  certain  to  rejoice  in  it,  as  a  measure  look- 
ing to  the  permanent  peace  and  prosperity  of  the  coun- 
try, after  the  exasperations  of  the  hour  have  passed  away, 
than  those  who  were  deluded  into  the  vain  attempt  to 
revolutionize  the  government  and  destroy  our  nationality 
in  the  interest  of  human  slavery. 

The  result  we  have  reached  has  been  at  a  vast  ex- 
pense. We  cannot  say,  even  when  we  compute  the 
number  of  graves  or  the  hosts  of  crippled  and  mutilated 
men  who  demand  our  respect  and  honor  in  the  streets, 
that  the  price  has  been  too  great.  All  great  achieve- 
ments in  the  interest  of  the  human  race  are  accomplished 
through  suffering.  Our  fathers  suffered,  but  not  in  vain. 
We  have  suffered,  but  not  in  vain. 

The  sentiments  appropriate  to  the  times  are  not  pride, 
insolence,  and  ambition,  but  gratitude,  faith  in  God,  faith 
in  our  institutions,  and  a  resolute  purpose  to  keep  that 
faith  with  ourselves,  and  with  the  world,  in  the  interest 
of  law,  liberty,  and  all  goodness.     We  are  entering  upon 


Independence  not  Secession.  309 

a  new  historic  epoch.  It  is  with  us  as  with  the  world 
emerging  from  the  flood.  That  flood  had  enriched  the 
earth  with  its  vast  deposits — to  be  improved  by  a  better 
culture.  We  are  not  the  same  nation,  in  many  respects, 
now  that  we  have  come  out  of  this  war,  as  when  we  went 
into  it.  We  have  no  fear  that  such  a  war  will  ever  be 
repeated,  so  long  as  the  sun  and  moon  endure.  We  re- 
joice that  this  has  been  decided  in  our  own  day.  We 
have  proved  and  settled  it  that  liberty  does  not  mean  the 
absence  of  law  ;  that  the  best  and  largest  freedom  does 
not  imply  the  destruction  of  government.  If  we  have 
had  great  deliverances,  we  must  now  meet  great  respon- 
sibilities. With  victories  in  the  field  there  must  be  the 
greater  and  sublimer  victories  of  peace.  We  must  con- 
quer the  resentments  of  the  defeated,  by  conquering  our 
own.  We  must  be  careful  that  constitutional  law  is  not 
weakened  nor  dishonored  by  the  hands  of  those  who 
have  achieved  its  vindication.  Grave  questions  are  on 
our  hands,  demanding  wisdom,  humanity,  moderation, 
religious  patriotism.  If  many  of  us  are  prone  to  think 
that  mistakes  have  been  made  in  our  country,  by  the 
allowance  of  universal  suffrage,  the  most  they  can  be 
expected  to  concede  is,  that  its  exercise  should  henceforth 
be  impartial.  We  like  the  expression  impartial  suffrage 
better  than  universal  suffrage.  Whatever  qualifications 
may  be  thought  proper  for  the  high  and  solemn  duties  of 
a  voter,  let  those  qualifications  be  allowed  to  work  im- 
partially, without  regard  to  color.  Those  qualifications 
existing,  let  none  be  denied  the  right  of  voting,  because 
of  the  complexion  of  the  skin  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  may  well  hesitate  to  confer  that  right  on  any,  because 


310  Thanksgiving. 

they  are  black,  when  wanting  the  qualifications  which  are 
expected  of  others. 

Some  questions  which  are  destined  to  convulse  the 
nations  of  Europe  we  have  already  settled.  The  time  is 
certain  to  come  when  our  sympathies  will  be  looked  for 
and  valued.  They  will  never  be  withheld  from  what  is 
good  through  any  spirit  of  retaliation.  The  sympathies 
of  the  American  people  will  always  be  with  free  institu- 
tions, with  liberal  governments,  with  the  rights  of  the 
people  in  Church  and  State  ;  and  never  will  they  be  given 
to  any  class  of  men,  who,  under  whatever  name,  agree  in 
thinking  that  the  many  are  to  be  held  subservient  to  the 
few,  and  that  the  object  of  government  is  to  aggrandize 
the  oligarchy  by  whom  it  is  administered.  Government 
is  for  the  good  of  all  the  people  ;  and  a  religious  people 
will  always  conserve  it  as  God's  ordinance  for  the  happi- 
ness, and  not  the  harm,  of  society.  Thoroughly  imbued 
with  this  conviction,  mindful  of  our  history,  knowing  well 
the  sublime  events  out  of  which  it  sprung,  and  those  yet 
sublimer  events  which  it  foreshadows ;  grateful  to  the 
Almighty  for  our  earlier  and  our  latter  deliverances,  we 
pledge  ourselves  to  the  great  work  of  educating  and 
Christianizing  this  ever-increasing  population ;  before 
the  world  we  pledge  our  sympathy  and  aid  to  the  great 
cause  of  liberty,  of  good  laws,  of  humanity,  of  good 
morals,  of  true  religion,  of  universal  brotherhood  and 
peace. 


AMERICAN    NATIONALITY. 


He  maketh  wars  to  cease.     Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God. 
The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  with  us  :  the  God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge. 

Ps.  46. 


XV. 

AMERICAN     NATIONALITY. 

Many  instances  of  national  thanksgivings  are  record- 
ed in  history.  There  is  that  most  memorable  deliverance 
of  Israel  from  the  bondage  in  Egypt,  the  miraculous 
passage  of  the  Red  Sea,  upon  whose  shores  the  tribes, 
with  Moses  and  Aaron  and  Miriam  for  leaders,  with 
timbrels  and  dances,  joined  in  a  song  of  gladness  and 
triumph,  which  elsewhere  in  Scripture  is  associated  with 
that  chorus  which  will  be  shouted  at  the  last,  by  all 
the  followers  of  the  Lamb  on  the  sea  of  glass.  Our 
ancestral  history  is  marked  at  every  stage  by  these  occa- 
sions of  thanksgiving  by  a  whole  people.  Edward  the 
Third,  the  night  after  the  famous  battle  of  Cressy,  issued 
orders,  not  only  for  abstaining  from  all  insulting  of  the 
conquered  and  all  boasting  of  their  own  valor,  but  for 
returning  thanks  to  the  Divine  Giver  of  the  victory. 
After  the  decisive  battle  of  Poictiers,  and  the  victory  of 
the  Black  Prince,  eight  days  successively  were  appointed 
by  his  father  to  be  observed  throughout  England,  for 
solemn  and  public  thanksgiving.  Few  scenes  in  history 
are  to  be  compared  with  that  after  the  battle  at  Agincourt, 
where  the  gallant  Henry  the  Fifth,  with  a  small  army, 
14 


314  Thanksgiving, 

routed  the  immense  forces  of  France,  when  the  king  order 
ed  the  115th  Psalm  to  be  repeated  in  the  midst  of  his 
victorious  army,  and  at  the  words  "  not  unto  us,  not  unto 
us,  but  unto  thy  name,  be  the  praise,"  he  himself,  his 
dismounted  cavalry,  his  entire  army,  with  all  its  chivalry, 
fell  to  the  earth  upon  their  faces,  ascribing  to  the  Almighty 
all  the  glory  of  their  victory. 

When  the  Spanish  Armada,  bearing  such  menaces 
against  Protestantism  and  liberty,  was  so  terribly  destroy- 
ed by  a  tempest  upon  the  sea,  not  only  was  there  a  season 
of  national  thanksgiving  throughout  England,  but  Queen 
Elizabeth  directed  a  medal  to  be  struck,  with  the  inscrip- 
tion, "  Afflavit  Deus,  et  dissipantur." 

Later  still,  when  England  was  distracted  and  convulsed 
by  a  rebellion,  in  the  interest  of  the  Pretender,  represent- 
ing the  House  of  Stuart,  that  synonym  for  bigotry  and 
despotism,  against  the  House  of  Hanover,  on  the  final 
termination  of  the  eventful  strife  which  "  secured  every 
thing  to  be  esteemed,  and  delivered  from  every  thing 
that  could  be  apprehended  by  a  Protestant  and  free 
people,"  a  day  was  set  apart  for  public  thanksgiving,  the 
extraordinary  observance  of  which  has  been  preserved  in 
the  charming  description  of  Addison.  Not  now  to  speak 
of  those  many  occasions  for  thanksgiving  which  were 
observed  by  the  feeble  colonies  of  America,  in  view  of 
special  deliverances  which  must  have  persuaded  even 
Atheism  to  believe  in  a  Superintending  Providence,  there 
was  one  which  deserves  a  particular  mention  as  appoint- 
ed by  the  first  President  of  the  country.  It  will  be  re- 
membered that,  shortly  after  the  American  Revolution, 
and  the  formation  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  chiefly 


American  Nationality.  315 

owing  to  burdensome  taxation  consequent  upon  the  war, 
and  to  misconstructions  of  the  name  and  the  spirit  of 
liberty,  there  were  several  attempts  at  unlawful  insurrec- 
tion against  the  government  by  armed  forces  in  Massa- 
chusetts and  Pennsylvania — attempts  which  to  us,  at  this 
distance,  seem  to  have  been  contemptible,  but  which  at 
the  time  occasioned  no  little  anxiety  to  the  friends  of 
order.  On  the  complete  suppression  of  the  spirit  of 
rebellion,  which  occurred  during  the  lifetime  and  the  office 
of  George  Washington,  he  issued  a  proclamation  for  Na- 
tional Thanksgiving,  affixing  to  it,  with  his  own  signature, 
the  seal  of  the  United  States — a  document  which  cannot 
be  too  frequently  recommended,  for  the  excellence  of  its 
sentiments  and  the  beauty  of  its  expression. 

NATIONAL   THANKSGIVING. 

A  Proclamation. 

By  the  President  of  the  United  States  of  America. 

When  we  review  the  calamities  which  afflict  so  many 
other  nations,  the  present  condition  of  the  United  States 
affords  much  matter  of  consolation  and  satisfaction.  Our 
exemption  hitherto  from  foreign  war ;  an  increasing  pros- 
pect of  the  continuance  of  that  exemption ;  the  great 
degree  of  internal  tranquillity  we  have  enjoyed ;  the  recent 
confirmation  of  that  tranquillity  by  the  suppression  of  an 
insurrection  which  so  wantonly  threatened  it ;  the  happy 
course  of  our  public  affairs  in  general ;  the  unexampled 
prosperity  of  ail  classes  of  our  citizens — are  circumstances 
which  peculiarly  mark  our  situation  with  indications  of 
the  Divine  beneficence  towards  us.     In  such  a  state  of 


3 1 6  Thanksgiving. 

things,  it  is,  in  an  especial  manner,  our  duty  as  a  people, 
with  devout  reverence  and  affectionate  gratitude,  to  ac- 
knowledge our  many  and  great  obligations  to  Almighty 
God,  and  to  implore  Him  to  continue  and  confirm  the 
blessings  we  experience. 

Deeply  penetrated  with  this  sentiment,  I,  George 
Washington,  President  of  the  United  States,  do  recom- 
mend to  all  religious  societies  and  denominations,  and  to 
all  persons  whomsoever  within  the  United  States,  to  set 
apart  and  observe  Thursday,  the  nineteenth  day  of  Feb- 
ruary next,  as  a  day  of  public  thanksgiving  and  prayer, 
and  on  that  day  to  meet  together  and  render  their  sincere 
and  hearty  thanks  to  the  Great  Ruler  of  Nations  for  the 
manifold  and  signal  mercies  which  distinguish  our  lot  as 
a  nation — particularly  for  the  possession  of  constitutions 
of  government  which  unite,  and  by  their  union  establish 
liberty  with  order;  for  the  preservation  of  our  peace, 
foreign  and  domestic ;  for  the  seasonable  control  which 
has  been  given  to  a  spirit  of  disorder  in  the  suppression 
of  the  late  insurrection ;  and  generally  for  the  prosperous 
course  of  our  affairs,  public  and  private  ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  humbly  and  fervently  to  beseech  the  kind  Author 
of  these  blessings  graciously  to  prolong  them  to  us ;  to 
imprint  on  our  hearts  a  deep  and  solemn  sense  of  our 
obligations  to  Him  for  them ;  to  teach  us  rightly  to 
estimate  their  immense  value ;  to  preserve  us  from  the 
arrogance  of  prosperity,  and  from  hazarding  the  advan- 
tages we  enjoy  by  delusive  pursuits;  to  dispose  us  to 
merit  the  continuance  of  His  favors  by  not  abusing  them, 
by  our  gratitude  for  them,  and  by  a  correspondent  conduct 
as  citizens  and  as  men;  to  render  this  country  more  and 


American  Nationality.  317 

more  a  safe  and  propitious  asylum  for  the  unfortunate  of 
other  countries;  to  extend  among  us  true  and  useful 
knowledge ;  to  diffuse  and  establish  habits  of  sobriety, 
order,  morality,  and  piety ;  and,  finally,  to  impart  all  the 
blessings  we  possess,  or  ask  for  ourselves,  to  the  whole 
family  of  mankind. 

In  testimony  whereof,  I  have  caused  the  seal  of  the 
United  States  of  America  to  be  affixed  to  these 
presents,  and  signed  the  same  with  my  hand. 
[l.  s.]  Done  at  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  the  first  day  of 
January,  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  ninety- 
five,  and  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States 
of  America  the  nineteenth. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 
By  the  President  : 

Edm.  Randolph. 

Happy  would  it  have  been  for  the  American  people, 
if  the  counsels  of  this  Proclamation  had  at  all  times 
inspired  and  governed  our  entire  population.  Never  was 
there  a  people  having  such  occasions  and  obligations  for 
gratitude  to  God  Almighty,  as  the  inhabitants,  and  all 
the  inhabitants,  of  this  country,  invited  again  by  their 
President  to  sit  down  together  at  a  national  love-feast, 
and  speak  together  of  things  which  pertain  to  our  coun- 
try's life  and  unity  and  strength  and  glory.  I  say  this 
with  a  full  knowledge  of  many  things  to  be  regretted  and 
deplored  in  the  past ;  with  the  memory  of  many  things, 
in  every  direction,  which  never  can  be  approved  and 
justified  ;  without  abating  or  modifying,  in  one  jot  or  tittle, 
our  previous  judgment  in  regard  to  many  measures,  and 


3 1 8  Thanksgiving. 

many  utterances  of  individuals,  and  sections,  and  parties  ; 
with  a  full  and  fresh  conviction  of  all  the  woes  and 
burdens  connected  with  that  war  out  of  which  we  have 
just  emerged;  remembering  the  untold  numbers,  and 
those  among  the  flower  and  vigor  of  the  land,  who  have 
been  swept  into  gory  graves  by  the  tornado  of  battle ; 
all  whose  names  will  never  be  known,  till  the  earth  and 
the  sea  give  up  their  dead,  at  the  trump  and  muster-roll 
of  the  Last  Day;  with  a  most  vivid  impression  of  the 
many  families  who  observe  this  day  with  weeds  on  their 
persons,  and  vacancies  at  their  hearths  and  tables ;  keep- 
ing before  me,  too,  the  fact,  that  large  portions  of  our 
country  cannot  speak  of  victory  and  triumph,  but  are 
conversant  with  defeat  and  disappointment,  chagrin  and 
impoverishment,  with  little  disposition  to  festivity,  and 
we  know  not  what  antipathies  and  hostilities  still  rank- 
ling at  the  heart;  with  the  fullest  persuasion  as  to  the 
gravity  of  questions  yet  on  our  hands,  undecided,  pregnant 
with  momentous  issues  for  the  future  of  America ;  not 
forgetting  how  many  things  have  been  said  and  done  which 
we  could  have  wished  had  not  been,  how  many  things 
there  are  now,  and  may  be  and  will  be,  probably,  contrary 
to  our  own  preferences  and  judgments, — yet  with  all  these 
abatements,  and  shadows,  and  apprehensions,  we  say  it 
again,  and  that  with  the  profoundest  convictions  of  its 
truth,  never  was  there  a  country  having  so  much  to  stir 
the  gratitude  of  a  wrhole  people,  as  our  own  dear,  torn, 
bleeding,  reunited,  regenerated  America.  If,  after  the 
manner  of  the  ancients,  who  chronicled  celebrated  events 
with  appropriate  medals,  we  were  to  symbolize  our  coun- 
try at  the   present  time,  we  would  represent  her  with 


American  Nationality.  319 

a  tear  in  her  eye,  for  her  dead  children — a  tear,  not  like 
those  of  Niobe  in  cold  despair,  but  glistening  with  the 
pride  of  self-sacrifice  for  a  cause  great  and  good ;  and  not- 
withstanding that  tear,  radiant,  calm,  strong,  cheerful, 
attended  by  the  two  forms  of  Security  and  Hope,  the 
one,  as  the  old  Roman  coins  present  her,  leaning  against 
a  pillar,  conscious  that  its  strength  cannot  be  moved ; 
and  the  other,  "jocund,  tip-toe,"  with  her  robes  drawn 
back,  in  the  posture  of  walking,  as  not  to  be  encumbered 
or  delayed,  when  pressing  forward  in  a  brighter  and  more 
magnificent  career. 

Wishing  to  avoid  every  thing  like  cheap  and  vulgar 
declamation,  and  to  present  something  like  a  true  analysis 
of  American  Nationality,  with  the  reasons  for  rejoicing 
over  its  preservation,  and  the  method  and  spirit  by  which 
it  is  to  be  perpetuated,  let  us  briefly  allude,  by  way  of 
preface,  to  the  wonderful  changes  through  which  we  have 
recently  passed — changes  so  astounding  as  to  task  our 
own  senses  and  credulity.  Had  it  been  told  us  one  year 
ago,  when  we  met,  as  it  were  on  the  deck  of  the  ship, 
tossing  and  thumping  among  the  breakers,  just  where  and 
what  that  ship  would  be  to-day,  tight  and  taut  in  hull 
and  rigging,  the  battle  and  the  storm  both  passed,  and 
halcyon  days  returned,  with  smooth  seas  and  bright  skies, 
and  the  nation's  flag  high  at  the  mast-head,  undimmed, 
untorn,  unblemished,  not  one  of  us  would  have  believed 
the  half  of  what  is  now  fact  and  truth.  According  to  the 
curious  calculation  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  the  comet  of 
1680  imbibed  so  much  heat  by  its  approaches  to  the  sun, 
that  it  would  have  been  two  thousand  times  hotter  than 
red-hot  iron  had  it  been  a  globe  of  that  metal ;  and  that, 


2%o  Thanksgiving. 

supposing  iH  as  big  as  the  earth  and  at  the  same  distance 
from  the  sun,  it  would  be  fifty  thousand  years  in  cooling 
down  to  its  natural  temper !  Considering  the  ferments 
and  excitements  into  which  we  have  been  wrought  during 
the  last  four  years  of  war,  and  the  intense  heat  of  the 
passions  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  many  entered  into 
very  curious  computations  of  how  many  years,  some 
despairing  of  any  thing  short  of  several  centuries,  before 
we  should  cool  into  comfort  and  moderation.  Was  there 
ever  a  transition  so  sudden,  so  general,  so  complete  as 
that  which,  within  a  few  months,  has  taken  place  in  our 
affairs  ?  There  is  a  deep  meaning  in  the  fact,  of  import- 
ant use,  as  testimony,  when  we  come  to  speak  of  the 
history  and  elements  of  our  nationality,  that  those  who 
had  taken  arms  against  the  government  at  last  so  prompt- 
ly and  universally  abandoned  a  struggle  which  they  saw 
to  be  useless  ;  for,  notwithstanding  words  of  passionate 
hostility,  there  was  a  latent  love  and  pride  for  the  old 
flag,  which  could  not  be  exterminated,  making  that  sub- 
mission at  last  easy  and  complete,  which  never  would 
have  been  reached  at  all,  if  there  had  been  no  misgiv- 
ing at  heart  as  to  the  rightfulness  and  necessity  and 
honor  of  their  cause.  The  war  has  ceased.  I  do  not 
say  that  all  which  Tacitus  meant  by  his  expression, 
recentibus  odiis,  the  yet  fresh  resentments,  passions  and 
prejudices  of  contemporary  antagonists,  have  entirely 
disappeared ;  but  war,  with  its  flames  and  desolation,  its 
musterings  and  its  shoutings,  its  shocks  and  din,  and  gar- 
ments rolled  in  blood,  has  ended,  and  ended  so  that,  as 
we  believe,  it  will  never  be  renewed,  on  that  issue,  so  long 
as  the  sun  and  the  moon  shall  endure.     According  to 


\vV       OF  THE         " 

American  Nationality.      [(**  *•  •rtfttip  p  g  T  T  V 

that  inimitable  description  given  us  by  VirgilXki  $[$ 
book  of  the  ^Eneid,  Military  Fury  is  shut  u] 
temple  of  Janus,  and  laden  with  chains,  sitting 

High  on  a  trophy  raised  of  useless  arms. 

The  immense  armies  which  were  mustered  for  the 
service  of  the  country  have  been  disbanded.  Contrary 
to  many  predictions,  domestic  and  foreign,  they  have  re- 
turned to  their  pacific  pursuits,  quietly  and  softly  as  the 
snows  massed  on  the  mountains  melt  away  in  the  spring 
and  trickle  down  in  streams  which  fertilize  a  continent. 
And  to-day,  notwithstanding  all  forebodings,  and  threats, 
and  reasonable  expectations,  and  precedents,  there  is  not 
a  single  man  throughout  our  vast  domain  who  is  in  armed 
rebellion  against  the  lawful  government  of  the  country. 
Not  only  is  there  no  army,  no  ship,  no  fort,  no  regiment, 
no  corporal's  guard,  but  not  one  roving  squad,  not  one 
guerrilla  band,  in  all  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains,  not 
one  soldier,  not  one  citizen,  of  any  description,  in  arms 
and  array  against  the  government  of  the  United  States  ; 
and  such  is  the  change  of  affairs,  and  such  the  dearth  of 
news  consequent  upon  the  change,  that  we,  who  a  few 
months  ago  held,  our  breath  as  we  read  of  hundreds  of 
thousands  engaged  in  deadly  conflict,  and  had  our  minds 
in  the  highest  pitch  of  expectation  day  and  night,  now 
languidly  open  our  morning  papers  to  find  a  whole  page 
headed  with  startling  capitals  to  catch  the  eye,  covered 
with  the  harmless  advertisement  of  a  sewing  machine, 
a  quack  medicine,  or  the  important  intelligence  an- 
nounced by  the  telegraph — amused  at  its  own  feat — that  a 
fishing  sloop  from  Massachusetts  Bay  has  arrived  at 
14* 


322  Thanksgiving. 

Fortress  Monroe  j  that  the  travelling  agent  of  the  old 
Peace  Society  has  begun  a  new  course  of  lectures  ;  and 
that  some  dozen  or  two  of  adventurers  and  refugees, 
some  of  whom  were  dressed  in  Federal  uniforms,  have 
been  shaking  fists  at  each  other  from  the  opposite  banks 
of  the  Rio  Grande. 

We  should  not  say  that  the  highest  state  of  national 
prosperity  was  indicated  by  the  entire  absence  of  all  ex- 
citing causes,  according  to  the  old  Dutch  conception,  in 
which  life  moves  on  like  the  canals  of  Holland,  "  no 
breakers,  no  waves,  not  a  froth-bubble  on  the  surface," 
men  and  animals  together  never  in  a  hurry,  slow  and 
sleek  and  heavy;  or,  in  accordance  with  the  Chinese 
idea,  stamped  on  the  very  faces  of  the  people,  repre- 
senting the  flat,  monotonous  life  of  we  know  not  how 
many  centuries ;  nevertheless,  when  a  people  who  are 
excitable  to  the  last  degree,  like  a  swarming  hive,  buz- 
zing and  humming,  when  roused  by  alarms,  have  sub- 
sided into  that  condition  in  which  they  have  nothing  to 
report  out  of  the  ordinary  course  of  events,  it  betokens 
that  the  flood  of  waters  has  abated,  that  the  swollen 
streams  have  returned  to  their  quiet  channels,  that  the 
bow  is  out  in  the  sky,  and  the  meadows  give  forth  a 
goodly  smell. 

It  is  of  our  nationality  —  our  American  nationality, 
as  preserved  and  vindicated,  that  I  treat,  as  the  great 
event  of  the  hour.  Other  things  there  are  of  which  we 
may  be  proud,  for  which  we  should  be  thankful,  but  this 
is  the  one  fact  which  sheds  importance  on  all  others,  and 
which  so  defines  and  describes  the  true  issue  of  our  civil 
war,  if  not  to  all  just  now,  yet  to  all  ere  long,  to  the 


American  Nationality.  323 

entire  North,  South,  East,  and  West  of  our  common  coun  - 
try,  that  it  will  be  the  occasion  of  devout  and  fervent  grati- 
tude. It  is  this  spirit  of  nationality  which  has  prevailed  and 
triumphed.  By  this,  I  do  not  mean  that  there  has  been, 
or  is  now,  or  will  be,  complete  unity  of  sentiment  in  regard 
to  public  measures,  or  the  administration  of  public  affairs, 
but  it  is  of  comparatively  small  account  what  differences 
of  opinion  may  exist  in  regard  to  all  subordinate  matters, 
so  long  as  there  is  above  all,  beneath  all,  an  honest  at- 
tachment to  the  national  life,  and  an  undivided  purpose 
that  it  shall  be  preserved.  A  serpent  with  one  head  and 
many  tails,  will  glide  through  a  thicket  much  easier  than 
another  serpent  with  many  heads  and  one  tail.  Differ- 
ences of  opinion,  likings  and  dislikings,  attractions  and 
repulsions  of  party — differences  running  to  all  widths 
between  slavery  and  anti-slavery,  and  I  care  not.  what  be- 
side— these  are  only  the  caudal  extremities  of  our  growth 
and  motion;  and  it  is  because  at  the  other  end,  leading 
the  whole  movement,  there  was  but  one  head  representing 
the  purpose  and  spirit  of  our  nationality,  that  we  have 
worked  our  way  safely  through  the  tangled  thickets  with- 
out wounding  or  tearing  off  any  portions  of  the  body, 
and  dragging  after  us  into  the  common  triumph  the  many 
tails  of  discord,  which,  had  they  been  foremost,  would 
have  torn  us  apart  into  many  bleeding  fragments. 

Cicero  recommends  Pompey  to  his  countrymen,  on 
the  ground  that  he  was  always  fortunate,  and  so  great 
was  the  importance  attached  to  success  by  the  Roman 
people,  that  some  of  the  emperors  adopted  the  title  of 
Fortunatus  among  their  highest  designations.  It  is  not 
merely  because  the  interest  we  have  espoused  has  been 


3  24  Thanksgiving. 

crowned  with  success,  that  we  are  called  to  unite  in  thanks 
before  God  j  but  on  the  higher  ground,  that  the  nationality 
which  has  been  re-asserted  and  reestablished  involves  in- 
terests of  the  highest  magnitude  to  every  part  of  our 
country,  to  generations  yet  unborn,  and  to  all  the  pros- 
pects of  Christian  civilization  throughout  the  whole 
world.  It  is  upon  this  high  table-land  that  we  would 
take  our  stand.  Something  of  an  effort  may  be  re- 
quired to  reach  it.  Inasmuch  as  many  are  always  prone 
to  confound  petty  details  with  ultimate  inductions,  pri- 
vate grievances  with  vast  public  interests,  I  must  ask 
each  one  of  my  readers,  under  the  inspirations  of  the 
hour,  to  put  out  of  his  mind  every  thing  which  pertains  to 
party  and  section,  every  thing  of  local  partiality  and  per- 
sonal preference,  and  to  rise  to  those  summits  whence  we 
can  calmly  and  dispassionately  survey  the  goodliness  and 
greatness  of  our  American  nationality.  As  I  shall  speak 
of  what  is  implied  in  that  term,  I  beg  him  to  take  off  his 
eyes  from  the  eddies  and  back-water  of  the  stream,  from 
the  drift-wood  and  weeds — every  thing  that  is  unsightly 
which  is  borne  along  on  the  surface- — and  survey  awhile 
the  depth  and  breadth  and  length  and  magnificence  of 
the  Great  River  itself,  which  maketh  glad  the  city  of  our 
God.  Differences  of  opinion  exist  among  intelligent 
citizens  as  to  the  origin,  the  causes,  the  conduct,  the  men, 
and  the  measures  of  the  war ;  and  nothing  is  so  long- 
lived  as  ancestral  prejudices  and  educated  partialities. 
We  are  told  of  the  old  Tory  of  former  times,  who  could 
not  be  accosted  by  a  neighbor  in  the  street  with  the  usual 
remark  about  the  weather,  without  replying  that  there  had 
been  no  good  weather   since  the  Revolution.     Judging 


American  Nationality.  325 

from  the  style  adopted  by  certain  men  and  newspapers, 
we  should  infer  that  there  was  a  faction  existing  in  this 
country,  consisting  of  the  President,  the  Senate,  the  House 
of  Representatives,  and  the  Supreme  Court;  and  that 
whenever  there  happens  to  be  a  majority  of  one  opinion, 
Congress  has  no  power  to  make  laws.  Here  is  a  man  who 
has  nothing  to  say  or  do  but  grumble  about  matters  which 
are  only  incidental  and  parenthetical  to  the  great  move- 
ment. One  can  see  nothing  but  the  temporary  suspension 
of  the  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus ;  another  groans  under  the 
burdens  of  taxation,  and  revolts  at  the  injustice  of  the 
income  tax.  One  thinks  it  a  very  hard  matter  that  his 
rebel  cousin,  when  taken  prisoner,  was  not  treated  like  a 
gentleman,  with  fine  linen  and  sumptuous  fare ;  and 
actually  complains  because  an  army,  marching  through  a 
country  in  hostility,  did  not  leave  every  thing  just  as  nice 
and  genteel  as  after  a  pacific  parade.  It  is  no  secret 
that  some  men  entertain  opinions  of  the  widest  extremes 
in  regard  to  slavery.  One  goes  the  length  of  regarding  it 
as  a  divine  institution,  to  be  conserved  and  perpetuated 
and,  of  course,  seeing  little  else  than  misery  and  wrong 
and  poverty  and  woe  in  the  sudden  liberation  of  the 
slaves ;  while  at  the  opposite  side  are  those  who  regard 
the  extinction  of  slavery  as  the  sole  issue  and  object  of 
the  war ;  who,  oblivious  of  the  sentiment  recorded  on  a 
certain  occasion  by  President  Lincoln,  "with  slavery 
or  without  it,  the  Union  must  be  preserved,"  hold 
every  other  occasion  for  gratitude  subordinate  to  this, 
that  African  slavery  is  forever  abolished.  Outside  of  all 
these  conflicting  opinions,  beyond  and  above  private 
complaints,  personal  disappointments  or  congratulations, 


326  Thanksgiving. 

prejudices,  passions,  traditions  of  place  arid  education, 
we  sweep  a  wider  induction  and  climb  that  higher  ground, 
where  law  and  duty,  loyalty  and  love,  memory  and  mercy, 
justice  and  hope,  patriotism  and  religion,  invoke  all  the 
people  to  praise  for  the  continued  and  invigorated  life 
of  the  nation. 

Am  I  required  to  explain  what  is  meant  by  our  na- 
tionality, and  how  much  it  includes  ?  It  would  not  be 
possible  within  the  compass  of  a  chapter  to  combine  and 
retain  all  the  thoughts  and  memories  which  come  rushing 
upon  us,  at  the  proposal  of  such  a  question.  We  should 
feel  obliged,  in  framing  a  full  and  correct  answer,  to  un- 
fold the  true  theory  as  to  the  object  and  import  of  civil 
government  as  a  divine  ordinance,  with  a  careful  state- 
ment of  the  reasons,  which,  on  ethical  grounds,  justify  one 
revolution,  because  government  is  perverted  and  oppres- 
sive, and  condemn  another  as  wanton  and  criminal  be- 
cause government  is  benignant  and  liberal ;  with  some 
delineation  of  the  enormous  consequences  which  would 
ensue  upon  the  admission  that  governments  pronounced 
to  be  good  may  be  assaulted  and  resisted  at  the  whim 
and  passion  of  any.  We  should  be  constrained  to  go  back, 
through  ancient  protests  and  memorable  struggles,  to 
historic  roots  and  forces,  to  lay  bare  the  vital  origin  of  our 
nationality,  leading  you  through  the  galleries  of  the  past, 
and  bidding  you  to  look  at  the  faces  of  great  men,  and  the 
pictures  of  great  events.  We  should  take  you  to  Geneva, 
and  Frankfort,  and  Leyden ;  and  repeat  what  was  ac- 
complished in  Britain  in  successive  protests  against 
despotism,  the  history  of  the  long  Parliament,  the  achieve- 
ments of  Hampden,  and  Cromwell,  and  Harrington,  and 


American  Nationality.  327 

Pym,  and  Sidney,  and  Milton,  and  Russell — America  in 
embryo,  Jacob  struggling  with  Esau  in  the  womb  of 
British  history,  America  on  British  soil, — and  the  birth  of 
liberty  after  long  and  perilous  throes — liberty  not  flushed 
and  licentious,  but  chaste  and  severe,  wedded  to  law, 
the  pledge  of  order  and  peace.  We  should  be  sure  to 
tell  you  of  what  stuff  the  American  colonies  were  severally 
composed,  what  extraordinary  conjunctions  of  events, 
what  reservations  of  this  American  continent,  till  the  right 
moment  in  the  dramatic  movement ;  how  the  colonies 
distinct  in  origin  and  character,  were  from  the  first 
attracted,  by  a  common  instinct  of  self-preservation,  to- 
gether ;  how  separation  from  the  Old  World  was  accom- 
plished throughout  by  a  Federal  sympathy  and  power — in 
the  words  of  Hamilton  :  "  The  Union  and  Independence 
of  the  States,  blended  and  incorporated  in  one  and  the 
same  act ; "  of  the  independence  of  the  country,  declared 
by  the  American  Continental  Congress,  and  fought  to  a 
successful  issue,  in  and  by  the  union  of  all  the  States ; 
one  in  heart,  one  in  toil ;  how  notwithstanding  the  cabals, 
of  small  men,  North  and  South  were  interfused  and 
intermixed,  now  a  Northern  general  commanding  in 
Southern  battles,  and  now  a  Southern  general  in  the 
Middle  and  Northern  States,  while  out  of  the  centre  of  the 
continent,  as  representing  the  heart  of  the  whole  move- 
ment, and  presiding  over  it,  arose  that  august  form  of 
Washington,  who  knew  nothing,  thought  of  nothing  but  the 
whole  country,  and  so  the  independence  of  America  was 
achieved  by  the  union  of  America.  Then  we  would  re- 
hearse the  history  of  our  national  Constitution,  the  rea- 
sonings of  that  extraordinary  man,  Alexander  Hamilton, 


328  Thanksgiving. 

the  right  hand  of  Washington,  who  was  so  quick  to  fore- 
see that  a  league  could  not  serve  as  a  government ;  that 
confederacies,  having  subserved  their  time  and  purpose, 
were  to  give  place  to  an  organized  nationality ;  how  that 
nationality  arose,  not  by  a  timid  mending  and  patching 
of  the  old  articles,  but  by  the  higher  action  of  a  direct 
representation  of  the  People  of  all  the  States,  assembled 
in  conventions,  a  new  Government  and  a  new  Constitu- 
tion, which,  leaving  undisturbed  many  rights  and  powers 
of  the  several  States,  assumed  the  grander  and  more  impe- 
rial, the  sole  right  of  making  war  and  peace,  of  diplomacy, 
the  issuing  of  coin,  the  only  coin  of  the  country  supersed- 
ing all  State  mottoes  and  devices,  with  E pluribus  umim 
upon  its  face,  the  adoption  of  a  national  flag,  and  so  the 
birth  of  a  full-grown  and  blessed  nationality.  We  should 
be  sure  to  repeat  to  you,  as  the  exponent  of  that  time  and 
history,  the  counsels  of  Washington,  our  American  Moses, 
in  his  farewell  address,  that  sweet  and  noble  Deutero- 
nomy of  our  annals,  with  its  warnings  against  sectional 
jealousies  and  geographical  distinctions ;  his  noble  heart 
beating  to  its  last  throb  in  pride  and  love  and  hope  for 
the  American  Nation.  With  wonder  should  we  tell 
how  the  country  grew  and  prospered,  how  the  flag  was 
borne  upon  every  sea,  and  was  a  protection  to  every 
citizen ;  how  territory  was  enlarged  and  populated, 
a  vast  tract  of  country,  known  as  Louisiana,  large 
enough  afterwards  to  be  partitioned  off  into  several 
states,  was  ceded  by  France,  to  what  ? — to  whom  ?  To 
Arkansas  ?  To  Missouri  ?  They  were  not  yet  in  exist- 
istence ;  but  to  the  United  States.  We  would  dwell 
on     the    marvellous     ease     with    which    the    Federal 


American  Nationality.  329 

Constitution  adapted  itself  to  new  territories,  and  new 
exigencies,  and  so  commerce  flourished  and  agriculture 
smiled,  and  the  arts  prospered,  and  peace  reigned,  and 
the  fourth  of  July  was  celebrated  North  and  South,  and 
East  and  West,  and  the  foot  of  every  child  marked  time 
to  the  simple,  soul-stirring  old  music  of  our  nationality. 
Nor  should  we  leave  out  of  account  how,  as  exciting 
questions  arose,  and  sectional  collisions  were  imminent, 
men  were  prepared  for  the  emergency,  whose  names  be- 
long no  more  to  States  but  to  the  Nation ;  Henry  Clay, 
whose  sweet,  persuasive,  and  limpid  speech,  in  defence  of 
all  that  was  national,  was  like  his  of  old,  on  whose  lips  the 
bees  of  Hymettus  were  said  to  settle ;  and  that  other  form, 
grand,  imposing,  never  to  be  forgotten,  as  one  who,  by 
his  special  study  and  eloquence,  made  ready  the  country 
for  that  struggle  out  of  which  it  has  just  emerged,  Daniel 
Webster,  known  as  the  Defender  of  the  Constitution,  and 
whose  matchless  words,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  so 
moved  the  heart  of  this  whole  people,  that,  long  after  his 
argument  was  finished,  they  turned  towards  him,  in 
breathless  delight,  as  Adam  to  the  discourse  of  the  angel ; 

"  The  Angel  ended,  and  in  Adam's  ear 
So  charming  left  his  voice,  that  he  awhile 
Thought  him  still  speaking,  still  stood  fixed  to  hear." 

If  any  thing  more  were  necessary  to  complete  the  con- 
ception of  our  nationality,  I  would  bid  you  glance  at  the 
geography  of  America,  and  mark  in  what  direction  run 
the  ranges  of  its  mountains  and  its  great  rivers,  the 
outlets  of  commerce — physical  characters,  in  which  God 
Almighty  has  written  out  the  unity  of  our  nation  ;  and 


3  3  o  Thanksgiving. 

when,  by  all  these  lessons  of  history,  these  memories 
of  the  past,  remote  and  recent,  we  are  possessed  of 
some  idea  of  what  is  meant  by  America — America 
as  a  whole,  as  an  organized  and  distinctive  nation- 
ality— let  us  remember  that  the  progress  of  events  is 
not  to  be  arrested  or  reversed,  that  history  is  not  to  be 
turned  backwards,  according  to  the  sagacious  sentiment 
which  John  Hampden  adopted  on  his  coat  of  arms, 
"  Vestigia  nulla  retrorsu?n  "  ("  No  steps  backwards  ")  ; 
and  when  all  this  is  full  in  your  mind,  I  ask  you  what 
shall  we  think  of  the  conduct  of  men,  in  any  quarter, 
speaking  disparagingly  of  our  nationality ;  what  of  the 
audacious  crime  of  striking  at  the  heart  of  such  a  govern- 
ment, wantonly  and  without  cause  ;  and  what  is  your  in- 
stinctive sentiment  in  regard  to  men  who  would  peep  the 
name  of  a  State  in  contempt  of  the  grander  name,  the 
United  States  of  America;  who  had  wrought  them- 
selves into  such  a  frenzy  of  the  imagination  that  they 
were  willing  to  lower  the  national  flag  to  a  foreign  protec- 
torate ;  that  men  could  be  found  who  had  so  far  for- 
gotten the  pride  and  honor  and .  independence  of  their 
country,  that,  to  accomplish  their  unnatural  purposes,  they 
actually  crept  round,  through  Nassau  and  Canada,  British 
provinces,  to  ask  for  sympathy  and  aid  from  British 
authority — hanging  all  their  hopes  on  British  recognition, 
fawning  about  the  British  ministry,  and  crawling  for  pro- 
tection under  the  paws  and  the  tail  of  the  British  lion. 
Thank  God,  the  nation  lives  !  If  we  never  understood  it 
before,  we  know,  we  feel  that  we  are  a  nation  now.  Our 
independence,  at  last,  is  completed.  Henceforth  we  shall 
make  our  own  laws  and  our  own  language.    If-we  choose 


American  Nationality.  331 

to  adopt  a  new  word  expressive  of  a  new  thing,  we  shall 
certainly  do  it  at  our  pleasure.  We  shall  be  Americans 
throughout ;  we  shall  manufacture  our  own  goods,  cast  our 
own  cannon,  enact  our  own  notions,  honor  our  own  flag, 
do  things  in  our  own  way,  dispose  of  our  own  criminals, 
hang  our  own  rebels,  and  dispense  justice  or  mercy  ac- 
cording to  our  own  convictions,  as  lawfully  expressed  by 
the  chosen  authorities  of  the  country,  without  regard  to 
malcontents  at  home;  and  without  asking  permission  of 
any  body  abroad. 

Does  any  one  hesitate  to  give  praises,  loud  and  hearty, 
for  the  preservation  of  our  nationality  ?  They  may  not 
admit  it  just  now,  in  the  suddenness  of  their  reverses,  and 
the  uncooled  ardor  of  their  passion  ;  but  no  portion  of 
the  country  has  more  real  occasion  for  gratitude  over  the 
issue  of  the  war,  than  the  very  States  by  which  the  war 
was  inaugurated.  We  shudder  to  think  what  consequences 
must  inevitably  have  ensued,  sooner  or  later,  if  they  had 
succeeded  in  the  purpose  of  breaking  away  from  the 
Federal  Union.  Does  any  man  in  his  senses,  who  knows 
any  thing  of  human  nature,  of  history,  of  America,  believe 
that  a  confederacy,  based  on  the  very  principle  of  seces- 
sion, could  for  any  time  be  held  together  by  that  princi- 
ple ?  Would  not  the  very  centrifugal  passions,  which 
whirled  them  out  of  the  sphere  of  nationality,  have 
entailed  the  certainty  of  subsequent  explosions,  throwing 
them  into  contemptible  fragments  with  petty  rivalries, 
intestine  wars,  imposts  at  every  border,  custom-houses 
and  guards  at  every  boundary ;  without  dignity,  without 
security,  without  strength,  without  a  common  flag  ?  Well 
for  them,  and  for  us  all,  that  the  ever-recurring  revolutions 


3311  Thanksgiving. 

of  Mexico  and  of  South  America  have  not  been  brought 
nearer  to  us,  to  be  repeated  on  our  own  soil.  Grateful 
should  we  be,  that  this  question  has  been  settled,  in  our 
own  times,  and  is  not  to  be  bequeathed  to  our  children. 
Nor  is  there  less  occasion  for  gratitude,  that  the  mainte- 
nance of  our  nationality  is  for  the  interest  of  well-regulated 
liberty  throughout  the  world.  It  has  proved  that  liberty 
is  not  weakness  but  strength  ;  that  our  nationality  is  the 
strongest  of  all  governments,  because  its  roots  are  in  the 
hearts  of  a  free  people.  It  was  because  they  doubted 
this  fact  of  the  strength  of  a  democratic  government  to 
protect  itself  against  internal  foes,  that  our  success  was 
doubted  by  foreign  powers.  But  the  result  has  demon- 
strated, to  the  delight  of  all  friends  of  free  institutions 
throughout  the  world,  that  our  nationality  was  never  so 
strong  as  when  enemies  out  of  its  own  household  rose  up 
against  it ;  when  the  very  head  of  the  country  fell  in- 
stantly by  cruel  assassination ;  and  that,  to-day,  it  stands 
self-poised,  calm,  and  triumphant. 

Had  the  issue  of  this  war  been  otherwise,  leaving  us 
fractured  and  despicable,  the  shadow  on  the  dial  of  Time 
would  have  gone  back  we  know  not  how  many  degrees, 
and  wails  and  dirges  would  have  been  tolled  off  in  all 
the  turrets  of  the  air.  God  has  been  merciful  unto  us, 
and  blessed  us ;  that  his  way  may  be  known  upon  earth, 
his  saving  health  among  all  nations. 

Thus  far  I  have  confined  myself  purposely  to  one 
topic,  the  preservation  of  our  nationality,  from  the 
clear  conviction  that,  in  every  event,  the  best  thing 
for  the  white  man  and  the  black  man,  the  Northern 
man  and  the  Southern  man,  and  every  man  in  America, 


American  Nationality.  ^^ 

Europe,  Africa,  and  Asia,  was  that  this  free  republic, 
this  constitutional  government,  which  unites  liberty 
and  order,  should  be  maintained  inviolate.  It  was 
from  this  conviction,  that,  with  all  our  innate  abhorrence 
of  human  slavery,  as  entailed  upon  this  country  by 
the  mother  land,  against  American  protests  and  expostu- 
lations, many  were  disposed  to  counsel  moderation  and 
patience,  and  time  for  the  working  out  of  remedial,  ra- 
tional, and  legal  methods.  But  how  marvellous  are  the 
ways  of  God,  transcending  all  our  wisdom  and  fore- 
thought !  Who  of  us  ever  dreamed  that  in  our  day,  as 
the  result  of  unanticipated  events,  slavery  would  be  ex- 
terminated, and  that  the  Southern  States  themselves 
would  take  part  with  the  majority  of  all  the  States,  by  a 
legal  amendment  of  the  National  Constitution,  to  secure 
its  complete  extinction !  It  was  here,  as  it  has  always 
been,  in  the  wisdom  of  Divine  Providence ;  crime  was 
made  the  instrument  of  its  own  defeat ;  reviving  the  les- 
son of  the  old  fable,  that  they  who  fight  against  the  gods, 
blow  fire  and  ashes  into  their  own  faces  ;  and  they  who 
sought  to  dethrone  the  lawful  government  of  the  country, 
were  buried  under  their  own  Ossa  and  Pelion.  Slavery 
has  killed  itself  in  America.  Let  all  the  people  say, 
Amen.  Henceforth  it  cannot  be  an  element  of  national 
politics  ;  henceforth  its  removal  will  be  for  the  national 
peace  and  purity  and  morals  and  honor.  So  let  us  thank 
the  Almighty  for  an  issue  which  has  been  of  his  own 
working,  far  above  all  the  wisdom  and  power  of  man. 
The  cancer  is  cured,  but  the  man  lives ;  the  defect  in  the 
fagade  is  removed,  but  the  Temple  stands  stronger  and 
firmer  than  ever. 


334  Thanksgiving. 

That  the  loyal  people  of  this  country  are,  on  every 
ground,  disposed  to  be  magnanimous  and  lenient  to  those 
who  called  themselves  our  enemies,  needs  not  be  argued. 
Whether  enough  has  been  done  in  the  way  of  solemn 
justice,    to   mark   public   abhorrence  of    the    crime    of 
wanton    rebellion,  to    stamp    it    with    infamy   forever ; 
whether  the    hanging  of   a  few  miscreants,   convicted 
of  arson,  and  cruelty  to  prisoners,  is  a  sufficient  asser- 
tion and  vindication  of  justice,  in  view  of  the  tremen- 
dous   calamities    which    have    been  brought  upon   the 
American  people  by  this  rebellion,  may  safely  be  left  to 
the  decision    of  those  who  are  invested  with  constitu- 
tional  authority  and    power    in   the  premises.     But  in 
regard  to  the  Southern  people,  many  of  them   misled 
and  wronged,   patience,  kindness,  magnanimity  without 
stint — on     one    condition — and    but    one :    good   faith 
and  honor  and  loyalty  now  to  the  government  of  the 
United  States.     Every  thing  can  be  forgiven  ;  every  thing 
can  be  healed ;  every  thing  can  be  restored,  if  there  be 
complete  confidence  as  to  the  sincerity  of  the  oath  of 
allegiance   to  the  National  Flag  and  Constitution.     To 
ask  that  every  man  should  say  that  at  no  time  had  he 
any  sympathy  with  the  movement  which  overspread  his 
whole  State,  to  demand  that  men  should  accomplish  the 
feat,  surpassing  all  achievements  of  jugglery,  of  swallow- 
ing themselves  bodily,  that  in  an  instant  there  should  be 
a  complete  reversal  of  all  habits  of  thought,  and  liking 
of  institutions   to  which  they  were  attached  from  birth, 
is  too  much  to  expect  of  mortal  imperfection.     But  what 
is  demanded,  and  that  most  reasonably,  is  that,  accepting 
the  issue  of  the  appeal  to  arms  which  they  invoked,  they 


American  Nationality.  ^2$ 

should  now  abide  by  the  issue  in  duty  to  the  national 
government.  Time  and  patience  and  social  intercourse 
and  commerce  will  accomplish  the  rest  If  I  am  not 
mistaken,  words  have  fallen  in  some  quarters,  sometimes 
from  fair  lips,  reasoning  under  prejudice,  that  the  oath  of 
allegiance  was  merely  a  form,  a  matter  of  policy,  to  be 
taken  with  mental  reservations,  and  private  evasions  and 
intentions,  by  which  it  may  afterwards  be  broken.  The 
taking  of  this  oath  is  no  coup  d'etat.  Let  there  be  so 
much  as  a  suspicion  that  it  is  not  taken  in  good  faith,  and 
the  foundations  of  civil  society  are  dropped  out.  Euripi- 
des, the  great  tragic  poet  of  Athens,  once  introduced  a 
person  into  a  play,  who,  being  reminded  of  an  oath  he 
had  taken,  replied,  "I  swore  with  my  mouth,  but  not 
with  my  heart."  The  impiety  of  the  sentiment  set  the 
audience  in  an  uproar.  Socrates,  the  friend  of  the 
author,  swept  out  of  the  theatre  in  indignation.  And 
Euripides  himself,  so  great  was  the  offence,  was  publicly 
accused  and  arraigned  and  brought  to  trial,  as  having 
suggested  an  evasion  of  what  was  thought  the  most  holy 
and  indissoluble  bond  of  society.* 

Social  changes  impose  new  social  obligations.  Those 
who  have  been  suddenly,  by  the  convulsions  of  the  war, 
thrown  up  out  of  slavery,  are  to  be  the  wards  of  the  na- 
tional justice  and  humanity.  We  cannot  yield  assent  to 
all  the  theories  which  have  been  put  forth  in  regard  to 
their  immediate  and  unconditional  rights  of  suffrage.  It 
has  been  argued,  for  example,  ingeniously,  but  sophis- 
tically,  that  suffrage  is  a  natural  right.     If  it  is  so,  when 

*  Freeholder,  p.  420. 


336  Thanksgiving. 

does  it  begin  ?  at  birth  ?  when  a  child  can  hold  a  piece  of 
paper  ?  Does  it  belong  exclusively  to  one  sex  ?  Plainly, 
suffrage  is  not  a  natural  but  a  political  right,  and  the 
time  when  it  shall  be  exercised,  and  the  persons  by  whom 
it  shall  be  exercised,  are  and  must  ever  be  fixed  by  the 
civil  power — the  State  itself.  What  more  can  be  asked, 
or  conceded,  in  regard  to  this  right  of  suffrage — the  most 
sacred  and  high  and  solemn  that  a  freeman  can  hold, — 
but  that  whatever  qualifications  an  intelligent  community 
shall  prescribe,  the  same  shall  be  allowed  impartially, 
without  distinction  of  color.  More  than  this  would  be  to 
overturn  the  old  foundations  of  intelligence  and  virtue 
on  which  our  free  institutions  are  built. 

God  grant  that  the  kindly  sentiments  which  gratitude 
inspires  may  foster  the  purpose,  hereafter  to  do  every 
thing  that  an  intelligent,  self-governed  Christian  people 
can  do  for  the  honor  and  interest  of  our  whole  country. 
Well  may  we  adopt  the  sentiment  worn  as  a  frontlet  by 
a  great  man  in  former  times  :  "  Serve  God  and  be  cheer- 
ful."* Not  content  with  what  is  generally  understood 
by  being  good  citizens — honest,  just,  and  true — we  should 
cultivate  more  the  specific  and  grander  affection  of  pa- 
triotism. Exercising  the  rights  of  freemen  to  criticise 
public  men  and  public  measures,  as  we  would  not  mis- 
lead foreign  observation,  or  harm  and  mislead  ourselves, 
let  us,  in  a  higher  region,  and  with  a  mightier  sentiment 
be  sensitive  to  all  which  affects  the  honor  of  our  nation- 
ality. There  is  something  to  be  admired  in  that  which 
has  occurred  in  the  civil  wars  of  history,  that  before  bat- 

*  Inservi  Deo,  et  laetam. 


American  Nationality,  tfrj  jt  t  <&3&  T>  g  T  T  V 

tie  commenced,  the  pavilion  or  the  positiol 
should  be  designated,  so  that  no  harm  should 
person  who  represented  the  life  of  the  nation.  Something 
to  be  honored,  is  the  custom  of  the  Persian  ambassador  to 
the  countries  of  Western  Europe,  bringing  with  him  a  sod 
of  his  native  soil,  to  be  looked  at  every  day,  so  to  be  re- 
minded of  the  country  with  whose  honor  he  was  entrusted. 
Without  counselling  anything  which  is  romantic  and  vain- 
glorious, let  us  be  grateful  for  the  land  which  God  has 
given  us,  the  Constitution  bequeathed  to  us,  the  Govern- 
ment given  to  us  anew,  as  preserved  amid  unprecedented 
trials,  grateful  for  the  names  and  services  of  great  men, 
the  principles,  ideas,  and  successes,  which  America  has 
furnished  already  as  a  succor  and  hope  for  other  nations, 
and  confident  as  to  what  Christian  liberty  will  yet  do 
for  the  world ;  the  cross  symbolizing  what  Christ  has 
done  for  individual  man;  the  flag  what  Christian  men 
may  do  and  organize  for  themselves  ;  that  flag  to-day  the 
same  which  rustled  over  us  in  our  childhood,  to  be  the 
same  for  ever,  we  trust — changed  only  as  new  stars  shall 
come  out  upon  its  azure  firmament,  but  losing  none  ;  let 
us  rise  above  all  the  asperities,  the  griefs,  the  perplex- 
ities of  the  hour,  and  rehearse,  we  and  our  children,  now 
and  always,  those  grand  old  words  of  the  Hebrew  poet, 
which  inspiration  has  left  us  for  the  very  purpose  of  ex- 
pressing, as  no  other  words  ever  can,  our  love  for  our 
whole  country  and  our  religious  convictions  as  to  the 
relations  of  our  unbroken,  united,  harmonized  America 
to  the  world  : 

Great  is  the  Lord,  and  greatly  to  be  praised  in 
the  city  of  our  god,  in  the  mountain  of  hls  holi- 

15 


33%  Thanksgiving. 

ness.  We  have  thought  of  thy  loving  kindness,  O 
God,  in  the  midst  of  thy  temple.  According  to  thy 
name,  O  God,  so  is  thy  praise  unto  the  ends  of  the 
earth  ;  thy  right  hand  is  full  of  righteousness. 
Walk  about  Zion,  and  go  round  about  her  :  tell 
the  towers  thereof.  mark  ye  well  her  bulwarks, 
consider  her  palaces  i  that  ye  may  tell  it  to  the 

GENERATION  FOLLOWING.  FOR  THIS  GOD  IS  OUR  GOD 
FOR  EVER  AND  EVER. 


THE   PAST  AND   THE   PRESENT. 


Say  not  thou,  What  is  the  cause  that  the  former  days  were  better 
than  these  ?  for  thou  dost  not  inquire  wisely  concerning  this. 

Eccles.  iv.  10. 


XVI. 

THE    PAST    AND    THE    PRESENT. 

It  would  seem  that  even  in  the  days  of  Solomon, 
some  were  disposed  to  disparage  their  own  times,  and  to 
sigh  for  those  which  were  gone.  They  appear  to  have 
assumed  that  the  "  former  times  were  better  "  than  their 
own  ;  an  assumption  which  the  Preacher  affirms  not  to  be 
true.  It  amuses  us,  when  the  old  gouty  count  in  Gil  Bias 
persists  in  saying  that  the  peaches  were  not  so  good  as 
they  were  in  his  boyhood.  But  when  the  disposition  as- 
sumes the  grave  form  of  discontent  with  what  is  present 
and  actual ;  complaining  of  one's  own  day  and  generation 
as  the  worst  that  ever  was  known  \  we  are  taught  both  by 
reason  and  Scripture  to  pronounce  the  habit  as  most 
pernicious,  for  it  is  grafted  upon  a  falsehood.  Bad  as  the 
times  may  be,  they  are  better  and  not  worse  than  those 
behind  us,  and  the  poorest  use  to  which  we  can  put  our 
time  and  faculties,  is  to  be  querulous  over  those  affairs  to 
which  we  are  personally  related,  and  to  stand,  in  what  is 
called  the  "  barrenness  of  these  degenerate  days,"  Janus- 
faced — one  countenance,  that  which  is  turned  to  the 
future,  elongated,  scowling,  and  sombre  ;  while  that  which 
looks  to  the  past,  has  an  expression  of  wishfulness, 
smiles,  and  satisfaction. 


342  Thanksgiving. 

There  is  an  illusion  in  regard  to  the  memories  of  the 
past,  which  ought  to  be  corrected  by  a  sober  judgment. 
It  is  easy  to  make  the  correction  so  far  as  it  relates  to 
our  personal  life.     We  recall  the  period  of  childhood,  as 
one  of  peculiar  happiness.     We  find  delight  in  recurring 
to  the  time  when,  as  children,  we  were  welcomed  and 
blessed  under  the  roof  of  our  first  and  earliest  home. 
There  is  good  reason  why  the  bright  picture  should  be 
hung  up  in  the  gallery  of  the  memory  :  the  house,  the 
cheerful  fire,  the  generous  table,  the  cordial  greeting,  love 
sincere,  confidence  unsuspected,  contentment  complete, 
the  crystal  ice,  the  new-fallen  and  resplendent  snow ;  or, 
that  other  pleasure,  of  which  a  popular  writer  has  said, 
nothing  is  to  be  compared  with  it — u  A  Child's  Midsum- 
mer Holiday — the  time,  I  mean,  when  two  or  three  of  us 
used  to  go  away  up  the  brook,  and  take  our  dinners  with 
us,  and  came  home  at  night  tired,  dirty,  happy,  scratched 
beyond  recognition,  with  a  greasy  nosegay,  three  little 
fish,  and  one  shoe,  the  other  having  been  used  as  a  boat, 
till  it  had  gone  down  with  all  hands  out  of  soundings."  # 
So  it  has  been  gravely  asserted  by  the  same  author  that 
this  was  the  very  happiest  period  of  life ;   and  that  no 
man  ever  "  experiences  such  pleasure  after  fourteen,  as 
he  does  before,  unless  it  be  in  the  novel  sensation  of  his 
first  love-making."     The  illusion,  so  common,  is  easily 
explained.     Conversant  with  care,  pressed  with  burdens 
peculiar  to  itself,  manhood  looks  back  to  the  time  when 
care  was  unknown,  and  burdens  and  toils  were  not  so 
much  as  thought  to  exist.     Life  mature  is  put  in  contrast 

*  Charles  Kingsley. 


The  Past  and  the  Present. 


343 


with  life  immature,  in  the  strong  points  of  their  dissimilar- 
ity, and  so  the  balance  is  carried  to  the  wrong  side.  The 
griefs  of  childhood,  real,  far  more  real,  than  our  ripened 
and  stronger  life  remembers,  are  forgotten.  The  shades 
in  that  bright  Mosaic  are  left  out.  Nothing  is  accounted 
for  or  remembered,  but  the  bright  hues  of  careless  pleas- 
ure. We  drop  out  of  the  drag-net  of  time  the  sand, 
the  sea-weed,  the  drift-wood,  and  all  which  we  retain  is 
the  tinted  shell,  with  its  smooth  and  polished  lips,  its 
lining  of  pearl,  and  its  soft  murmurs  of  a  receding  and 
unwritten  music. 

Then,  again,  the  personages  change  their  places,  and 
pleasures  vary.  You  cannot  crowd  a  full-grown  man 
into  the  dimensions  of  the  boy.  The  child  has  himself 
become  a  man  j  and  his  enjoyments  are  of  a  new  name 
and  form.  He  who  was  once  welcomed  home  as  a  child, 
now  has  the  pleasure  and  honor  of  extending  a  welcome 
to  his  own  children,  who  are  thus  the  instruments  of 
giving  him  a  double  joy,  his  own  and  theirs  reflected  upon 
his  larger  heart.  Spring,  summer,  autumn,  and  winter 
are  not  the  same  ;  each  has  its  uses  and  its  enjoyments, 
and  the  latest  are  the  richest  in  fruit-bearing,  harvesting, 
and  reward.  Some  pleasures  there  are  which,  like  some 
diseases,  we  can  have  but  once.  Talk  of  the  first  love- 
making  as  a  memorable  epoch  of  life,  from  which  one  is 
receding ;  it  is  a  fit  utterance  for  a  poetaster,  for  it  is  a 
fiction.  The  man,  ripe  in  years  and  experience,  if  his 
heart  be  pure  and  true  and  honorable,  will  tell  you  how 
his  heart  has  grown  deep  and  broad  and  large,  as  an- 
other life  has  grown  into  unity  with  his,  in  the  passing 
of  many   summers   and   winters   of  diversified   events 


344  Thanksgiving, 

and  that  to  him  the  gray  curl  which  now  rests  on  the 
forehead  sanctified  by  time,  is  more  dear  and  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  brown  and  raven  tresses  which  crowned 
that  brow  of  rose  and  ivory,  on  which  boyhood  printed 
its  first  kiss  of  pride  and  passion. 

The  illusion  which  cheats  so  many  in  the  estimate  of 
their  present  life,  affects  their  judgment  in  regard  to  the 
past  and  present  of  nations.  Their  knowledge  of  history 
is  limited  to  some  fiction  of  life  and  manners  which  they 
have  received  from  ballads  and  romances.  They  will  in- 
sist on  placing  the  "  golden  age  "  in  times  when,  in  fact, 
kings  lived  less  sumptuously  than  a  prosperous  farmer 
to-day ;  and  men  and  women  with  titles  of  nobility  were 
destitute  of  comforts  which  are  now  within  the  reach  of 
the  common  laborer.  In  spite  of  all  evidence,  thousands 
imagine  to  themselves  the  social  state  of  past  centuries 
as  more  agreeable  and  happy  than  that  in  which  we  are 
now  living.  They  are  charmed  with  the  "merry  Eng- 
land" of  Queen  Bess,  because  their  only  notion  of  that 
England  is  derived  from  the  splendid  panorama  of  Kenil- 
worth.  They  have  read  the  description  of  an  English 
inn,  as  given  by  I zaak  Walton,  the  walls  covered  with 
ballads,  the  brick  floor  swept  to  tidiness,  and  the  sheets 
scented  with  lavender,  such  as  the  honest  and  quiet  fish- 
erman frequented  when  coming  in  from  the  brooks  and 
meadows,  and  immediately  he  imagines  the  England  of 
Walton's  day  as  a  Paradise  of  cleanliness,  comfort,  and 
contentment ;  when,  in  fact,  the  majority  of  tenements 
had  not  even  a  chimney,  and  floors  were  generally  colored 
brown  with  a  wash  made  of  soot  and  small-beer,  to  hide 
the  dirt ;  and  the  filth  and  discomfort  of  houses,  as  de- 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  345 

scribed  by  Erasmus  and  Hollingshed  was  so  great  as,  in 
their  opinion,  to  be  the  cause  of  fatal  epidemics  ;  and  in 
London,  taverns  were  designated  by  flaming  signs  of  Blue 
Boars  and  Golden  Lions  and  Saracens'  Heads,  because 
such  a  vast  proportion  of  the  people  could  not  read 
names  and  numbers,  and  so  were  dependent  for  direc- 
tion on  some  form  palpable  to  their  senses,  the  more  gro- 
tesque the  better. 

It  is  difficult  for  us  even  to  imagine  what  period  of 
time,  or  what  stage  of  history,  men  disaffected  in  the 
days  of  Solomon  had  in  their  eye,  when  they  pronounced 
them  better  than  their  own,  which  was  the  very  culmina- 
tion of  their  national  polity.  Could  it  be  that  any  were 
so  deluded  as  to  wish  that  they  could  exchange  their 
condition  for  a  state  of  anarchy,  when  every  man  did 
what  was  right  in  his  own  eyes  ;  when  there  were  no 
roads,  nor  arts  ;  when  an  ox-goad,  or  the  jaw-bone  of  an 
ass,  were  the  most  efficient  implements  of  war,  and  the 
dissevered  limbs  and  joints  of  a  mutilated  woman  were 
sent  through  the  tribes  as  the  best  summons  to  battle  ? 
or,  earlier  still,  had  a  nomadic  life  of  tents,  and  flocks, 
and  pastures,  its  peculiar  charms  ?  It  is  hard  to  say 
what  age  they  would  imitate,  or  what  state  of  things  they 
would  propose  for  an  example.  A  glory  was  it,  surpass- 
ing all  which  ordinarily  falls  to  the  lot  of  mortals,  to  stand 
on  the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea,  when  it  had  been  crossed,  as 
it  was  by  Israel,  and  chant  their  songs  of  praise  and  de- 
liverance to  God  Almighty.  But  these  were  the  very  men, 
with  God  for  a  protector,  and  his  promise  for  a  cordial, 
who  looked  backward  and  sighed  for  the  green  meadows 
of  Egypt,  with  nothing  better  than  onions  and  vassalage. 
15* 


346  Thanksgiving. 

In  1679,  a  period  of  wonderful  heroism,  labor,  and 
austerity,  in  our  country,  a  convention  was  held  in  New 
England  to  inquire  what  was  the  crying  sin  which  had 
incurred  what  was  called  the  judgment  of  God  on  the 
colonies,  and  the  unanimous  conviction  was  that  it  was 
to  be  ascribed  to  the  luxurious  and  intemperate  habits 
of  what  they  pronounced  a  backsliding  and  downward 
age  ;  and  this  at  a  time  when  modes  of  living  were  so 
rigid  and  austere  as  now  to  excite  the  sense  of  the 
mirthful ;  when  Lady  Moody  lived  in  a  house  nine  feet 
high,  and  Governor  Winthrop  expended  on  official  dignity 
about  as  much  in  a  year  as  an  ordinary  gentleman  of 
our  time  in  a  month.  Mr.  Addison  has  given  us,  in 
one  of  the  numbers  of  the  Spectator,  a  humorous  de- 
scription of  a  valetudinarian  who  was  bent  on  being  sick, 
and  reducing  himself  by  spare  diet  and  profuse  sweating, 
but  who  all  the  time,  in  spite  of  himself,  was  growing 
decidedly  corpulent.  "  At  first  it  might  seem  strange," 
says  Macaulay,  tl  that  society,  while  constantly  moving 
forward  with  eager  speed,  should  be  constantly  looking 
backward  with  tender  regret.  But  these  two  proposi- 
tions, inconsistent  as  they  may  appear,  can  easily  be  re- 
solved into  the  same  principle.  Both  spring  from  our 
impatience  of  the  state  in  which  we  actually  are.  That 
impatience,  while  it  stimulates  us  to  surpass  preceding 
generations,  disposes  us  to  overrate  their  happiness.  It 
is,  in  some  sense,  unreasonable  and  ungrateful  in  us  to  be 
constantly  discontented  with  a  condition  which  is  con- 
stantly improving.  But  in  truth,  there  is  constant  im- 
provement precisely  because  there  is  constant  discontent. 
If  we  were  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  present  we  should 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  347 

cease  to  contrive,  to  labor,  to  endeavor,  to  fight  with  a 
view  to  the  future.  And  it  is  natural  that,  being  dissatis- 
fied with  the  present,  we  should  form  a  too  favorable 
estimate  of  the  past.  In  truth,  we  are  under  a  deception 
similar  to  that  which  misleads  the  traveller  in  the  Arabian 
desert.  Beneath  the  caravan  all  is  dry  and  bare,  but  far 
in  advance  and  far  in  the  rear  is  the  semblance  of  re- 
freshing waters.  The  pilgrims  hasten  forward,  and  find 
nothing  but  sand,  where,  an  hour  before,  they  had  seen  a 
lake ;  they  turn  their  eyes  and  see  a  lake  where  an  hour 
before  they  were  toiling  through  sand.  A  similar  illusion 
seems  to  haunt  nations  through  every  stage  of  the  long 
progress  from  poverty  and  barbarism  to  the  highest  de- 
gree of  opulence  and  civilization.  But  if  we  resolutely 
chase  the  mirage  backward,  we  shall  find  it  recedes  be- 
fore us  into  the  regions  of  fabulous  antiquity."  *  Perti- 
nent is  the  apostrophe  of  Charles  Lamb  :  "  Antiquity  ! 
thou  wondrous  charm,  what  art  thou  ?  that  being  nothing, 
art  everything  !  When  thou  wert,  thou  wert  not  antiquity 
— then  thou  wert  nothing,  but  hadst  a  remoter  antiquity, 
as  thou  calledst  it,  to  look  back  to  with  blind  veneration ; 
thou  thyself  being  to  thyself  flat,  jejune,  modem  !  What 
mystery  lurks  in  this  retroversion!  The  mighty  future 
is  as  nothing,  being  everything  !  The  past  is  everything, 
being  nothing."  f 

In  drawing  a  comparison  between  times  present  and 
past  there  is  an  important  advantage  in  taking  a  survey 
of  a  considerable  period  of  time,  as  the  whole  or  the  half 
of  a  century.     The  movement  of  society  is  by  actions  and 

*  History  of  England,  vol.  I.,  p.  396.  +  Elta,  p.  23. 


348  Thanksgiving 

re-actions.  It  is  not  like  the  current  of  a  rapid  river, 
always  running  on  in  the  same  direction.  Rather  is  it 
like  the  swing  of  the  ocean  when  the  tide  is  rising.  A 
wave  comes  in,  breaks,  and  rolls  back.  No  one  would 
imagine,  from  a  single  glance,  that  there  was  progress  at 
all.  Fix  your  eye  steadily  for  half  an  hour  on  one  point, 
and  you  will  perceive,  with  all  that  flux  and  reflux  of  the 
waves,  the  progress  of  the  tide  is  onwards  and  upwards. 
Just  so  is  it  with  history.  Examine  it  in  small  and  de- 
tached portions,  a  year,  five  years,  and  it  is  like  a  single 
wave,  which  disappoints  you  by  its  recoil.  Take  fifty 
years,  the  flats  and  the  sea-grass  are  out  of  sight,  and  you 
are  struck  with  the  difference  between  low  ebb  and  a  full 
tide.  Important  events  require  time  for  their  own  eluci- 
dation. You  cannot  judge  of  them  by  their  first  appear- 
ance; you  must  wait  and  see  their  ultimate  effects. 
Events  have  roots,  branches,  and  fruit.  They  do  not 
ripen  in  a  day.  Sir  James  Mackintosh  was  not  a  weak 
and  fickle  man  because  of  a  difference  of  judgment  in  his 
earlier  and  later  writings  upon  the  French  Revolution. 
This  change  of  opinion  was  the  necessary  result  of  ad- 
vancing time,  and  so  was  the  proof  of  serene  wisdom. 
Who  can  doubt  that  Edmund  Burke,  if  now  alive,  would 
write  very  differently,  on  the  effects  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, from  what  he  did  in  the  year  1790?  The  progress 
of  half  a  century  gives  an  entirely  new  aspect  to  events 
which  appear  disastrous  or  hopeful  in  their  first  occur- 
rence. 

"The  present  enlightened  age,"  is  an  expression 
which  has  already  attained  to  a  cant  currency ;  and  many, 
so  deftly  rebuked  by  Douglas  of  Cavers,  regard  it  with  as 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  349 

much  satisfaction,  and  the  past  with  as  much  contempt, 
as  if,  like  Love  in  Aristophanes,  it  had  been  hatched  from 
the  egg  of  Night,  and  all  of  a  sudden  had  spread  its 
radiant  wings  over  the  primeval  darkness.*  Other  cen- 
turies have  been  marked  by  great  events.  We  call  events 
great  only  from  the  results  to  which  they  lead.  Other 
men  have  labored,  and  we  have  entered  into  their  labors. 
We  and  our  children  gather  fruit  from  the  trees  which 
they  planted  with  fear  and  trembling.  The  roots  of  those 
institutions  which  distinguish  our  own  times  lie  back  in 
other  centuries.  But  there  is  one  circumstance  which 
gives  to  recent  years,  and  the  position  from  which  we 
survey  them,  a  decided  pre-eminence.  The  older  the 
world  is,  the  more  apparent  becomes  the  design  of  its 
Maker.  The  comprehensive  study  of  history  is  like  the 
ascent  up  a  mountain, — the  higher  you  climb  the  more 
you  see.  It  is  like  the  progress  of  a  drama, — the  farther 
you  advance  the  more  you  comprehend  of  the  plot ;  as 
events  thicken  the  better  do  you  discern  their  bearing  on 
the  catastrophe. 

The  close  of  the  last  century  was  marked  by  the  most 
astounding  changes.  It  was  a  time  of  general  war  and 
convulsion.  It  seemed  as  if  God  had  arisen  to  shake 
mightily  the  earth.  Men's  hearts  were  failing  them  for 
fear,  and  for  looking  for  those  things  which  were  to  come 
to  pass.  A  great  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  is  re- 
markable for  the  European  wars  of  succession.  Ere  the 
century  closes,  wars  of  a  very  different  description, — wars 
of  principle, — compared  with  which  the  contests  of  the 

*  Douglas  on  the  Advancement  of  Society. 


350  Thanksgiving. 

house  of  Hapsburgh  were  children's  squabbles,  convulse 
the  world.  At  the  first  movement  of  the  popular  mind 
in  France,  the  friends  of  humanity  rejoiced.  Great  abuses 
were  reformed,  and  good  men  were  hopeful.  But  the 
huge  mass  set  in  motion  could  not  be  stayed.  The  detent 
was  wanting,  and  everything  whirled  and  whizzed  to  a 
premature  and  disastrous  stoppage.  Commotion,  pro- 
scription, confiscation,  bankruptcy,  civil  war,  foreign  war, 
revolutionary  tribunals,  guillotinades,  blood,  chaos,  fol- 
lowed each  other  in  rapid  succession.  A  military  despo- 
tism rises  from  the  confusion  and  threatens  the  independ- 
ence of  every  State  of  Europe.  As  the  century  opens, 
Napoleon  was  certainly  the  most  remarkable  personage 
in  the  world.  We  have  now  reached  a  point  of  time 
when  we  can  pronounce  with  some  deliberation  upon  the 
general  effects  of  his  extraordinary  career,  and  of  that 
great  revolution  in  the  midst  of  which  he  emerged. 
There  was  too  much  of  terror  and  of  mystery  in  those 
events,  at  the  time  of  their  occurrence,  to  allow  men  to 
judge  with  calmness.  There  was  then  scarcely  one 
honest  friend  of  liberty  whose  ardor  was  not  damped  and 
whose  faith  in  the  high  destinies  of  mankind  was  not 
shaken.  It  is  now  cur  deliberate  opinion  that  the  French 
Revolution,  in  spite  of  all  its  follies  and  crimes,  its  atroci- 
ties and  sacrifices  of  human  life,  was  a  great  blessing  to 
the  world.  Deliverances  were  wrought,  though  amid 
plagues,  and  signs,  and  wonders.  Demons  were  exorcised, 
even  though  they  raged  and  foamed,  rending  and  tearing 
their  miserable  victims.  The  Colossus  of  war  who  be- 
strode Europe,  was  a  rod  of  iron,  by  which  the  Almighty 
dashed  in  pieces  the  old  despotisms  of  the  world,  like 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  351 

potters'  vessels.  Nations  were  lifted  up  from  under,  the 
heavy  oppressions  by  which  they  had  long  been  stifled. 
A  revolutionary  spirit  was  abroad  all  over  the  world. 
Mountains  did  not  stay  it,  nor  did  seas  stop  it.  A  new 
idea  was  thrown  into  the  heart  of  society,  which,  of  ne- 
cessity, produced  explosions  and  the  greatest  of  changes. 
That  idea  was  the  rights  of  subjects, — the  inalienable  free- 
dom of  man.  The  world  had  heard  enough  before,  in  all 
forms,  of  the  divine  right  of  kings.  The  "  Rights  of  Man  " 
was  the  title  of  the  book  published  by  Thomas  Paine, 
then  in  England,  in  reply  to  Mr.  Burke,  who,  in  his  Re- 
flections on  the  French  Revolution,  was  for  defending  old 
establishments,  notwithstanding  their  abuses.  But  those 
establishments,  political  and  ecclesiastical,  went  down  as 
at  the  breath  of  God's  nostrils.  Daylight  was  admitted 
into  the  most  dark  and  hopeless  regions.  Bodies  which 
had  been  regarded  dead  as  the  mummies  were  magnetized 
with  a  new  life.  Wars  were  not  confined  to  the  English 
Channel  or  the  Rhine ;  they  were  carried  into  the  remote 
East,  and  were  a  day  of  resurrection  to  the  slumbering 
nations.  The  French  army  invades  Egypt.  "  Soldiers," 
says  Napoleon  to  his  troops,  "from  the  summit  of  the 
pyramids  forty  centuries  look  down  upon  you ! "  The 
advancing  column  rolls  over  the  plain  of  Esdraelon,  and 
their  flushed  and  excited  commander  looks  out  upon  the 
strife  from  the  top  of  Tabor,  where  our  Lord  was  trans- 
figured. The  concussion  is  felt  throughout  the  Ottoman 
Empire.  The  Spanish  colonies  in  Central  and  South 
America  begin  a  series  of  struggles  for  their  independence. 
A  large  force  is  sent  against  them,  and  after  a  long  and 
bloody   contest  the    Spaniards   are   expelled,  and  their 


3  $2  Thanksgiving. 

former  possessions  are  created  into  many  republics,  of 
clivers  fortunes  and  prospects.  The  civilized  world  was 
thoroughly  overturned  and  overturned,  and  society  began 
to  be  organized  on  new  principles,  and  pervaded  by  a 
new  life. 

It  is  true,  there  was  a  reaction.  The  spirit  of  popular 
liberty  met  with  checks  and  rebuffs.  The  House  of 
Bourbon  is  re-established.  The  battle  of  Waterloo  re- 
stores exiled  kings,  prelates,  and  aristocracies.  "The 
battle  and  its  result,"  said  Robert  Hall,  "  seemed  to  me 
to  put  back  the  clock  of  the  world  six  degrees."  But  it 
was  only  as  the  recession  of  a  wave  or  two.  The  ocean 
was  not  dammed  up.  It  was  inevitable  that  other  revolu- 
tions should  come.  In  1830  they  came  again,  with  less 
of  cruelty,  less  of  mistake.  In  this  year  the  Belgians 
secure  their  independence,  and  a  new  Constitution  is 
formed  by  the  representatives  of  the  people  according  to 
which  a  new  King  is  elected.  In  Switzerland  an  aristo- 
cratical  government  is  exchanged  for  a  democracy.  At 
the  same  time  political  commotions  arise  in  Germany, 
and  constitutional  charters  are  secured  for  Saxony,  Han- 
over, and  the  electorate  of  Hesse.  A  general  desire  for 
liberty  pervades  Italy;  and  there  are  insurrections  in 
Bologna,  Modena,  and  Parma.  By  the  Revolution  of  the 
Three  Days  the  Papal  priesthood  of  France  is  again  over- 
thrown. In  the  very  same  year  a  revolution  occurs  at 
Warsaw ;  troubles  and  dissensions  break  out  in  Greece  ; 
a  new  organization  takes  place  of  the  relations  between 
the  nobility  and  burghers  of  Russia  ;  a  general  desire  of 
representative  government  prevails  in  Prussia;  and  the 
opposition   in   the   British    Parliament,   backed  by  the 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  353 

people,  are  strenuous  for  those  national  reforms  which 
were  carried  under  the  Grey  Ministry,  two  years  after. 
Nor  was  this  the  end.  Recent  events  are  but  reverbera- 
tions of  the  first  explosion.  At  each  repetition  of  the 
struggle  much  has  been  gained,  and  former  errors  and 
excesses  avoided.  Louis  the  Sixteenth  was  beheaded, 
and  his  wife,  the  pride  of  courts,  inhumanly  murdered. 
Louis  Philippe  leaves  the  Tuilleries,  the  Queen  on  his 
arm,  unmolested,  a  crowd  of  revolutionists  opening  to  let 
them  pass.  In  a  few  instances,  Hungary  and  Italy,  we 
have  been  disappointed  as  to  results.  But  the  end  has 
not  come  yet.  There  has  been  a  succession  of  changes 
in  the  right  direction ;  and  the  face  of  the  world  to-day 
no  more  resembles  what  it  was  at  the  close  of  the  last 
century,  than  the  post-diluvian  earth  was  like  its  appear- 
ance before  the  flood.  There  are  more  written  constitu- 
tions defining  and  securing  the  rights  of  subjects,  than 
ever  existed  in  the  whole  history  of  the  world  before. 
The  increasing  intelligence  of  society  has  operated  most 
beneficially  upon  the  ruling  powers.  The  greatest  despo- 
tisms are  forced  to  recede  when  they  encounter  national 
sentiments.  The  veil  of  separation  which  the  Orientals 
wisely  spread  before  their  monarchs,  and  behind  which 
they  have  remained  like  idols  of  dark  origin  and  uncertain 
attributes,  has,  in  continental  Europe,  been  rent  to  the 
bottom,  and  kings  are  held  answerable  to  law,  justice, 
and  humanity.  The  late  King  of  Naples  was  compelled 
to  plead  at  the  bar  of  public  opinion,  in  reply  to  the  letter 
of  Mr.  Gladstone  concerning  the  atrocities  of  the  Neapo 
litan  prisons  \  and  the  Emperor  of  Austria  did  not  disdain, 
in  his  recent  speech  at  the  imperial  dinner  in  the  Hotel 


354  Thanksgiving, 

de  Ville   of  Paris,   to   explain   and   defend  his   pacific 
policy. 

Perhaps  the  most  striking  change  which  has  occurred, 
and  this  in  connection  with  that  revolution  and  that  per- 
sonage in  France  of  whom  we  have  spoken,  is  in  the 
condition  and  prospects  of  the  Papal  Power.  Think  of 
it  as  it  was  when  kings  stood  barefoot  at  the  gate  of  the 
Pontifical  palace,  or  meekly  held  the  stirrup  of  the  Pope's 
palfrey;  and  nations  forsook  their  own  anointed  and 
hereditary  monarchs  when  censured  and  excommunicated 
by  the  soi-disant  successor  of  St.  Peter.  France  became 
imbued  with  infidelity.  That  country  which  from  the 
time  of  Charlemagne  to  the  present  hour  has  been  most 
intimately  allied  to  the  risings  and  fallings  of  the  Papal 
power, — whose  vocation,  according  to  Lacordaire,*  is  the 
defence  and  propagation  of  the  Papal  Church, — it  was  in 
France  that  the  spirit  of  infidelity  appeared  which  was 
destined  to  eat  like  a  canker  into  the  heart  of  the  Papal 
domination.  That  infidelity  began  with  opposition  to 
Papal  pretension  and  Papal  cruelty.  It  was  allied  with 
the  nascent  spirit  of  liberty.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  it 
would  have   passed   away  like  the  Deism  of  England, 

*  C'etait  la  nation  franque,  et  la  nation  franque  etait  la  premiere 
nation  catholique  donnee  par  Dieu  a  son  Eglise.  Ce  n'est  pas  moi 
qui  decerns  cette  louange  magnifique  a  ma  patrie  ;  c'est  la  papaute 
a  qui  il  a  plu,  par  justice,  d'appeler  nos  rois  les  fils  ainis  de  V Eglise. 
De  meme  que  Dieu  a  dit  a  son  Fils  de  toute  eternite  :  Tu  es  mon 
premier  ne ;  la  papaute  a  dit  a  la  France  :  Tu  es  ma  fille  ainee. 
Elle  a  fait  plus,  s'il  est  possible  ;  afin  d'exprimer  plus  energiquement 
ce  qu'elle  pensait  de  nous,  elle  a  cree  un  barbarisme  sublime ;  elle 
a  nomme  la  France  le  Royaume  christianissime — "  christian issi mum 
regnum." — Conferences  de  Notre-Dame  de  Paris,  p.  440. 


The  Past  and  the  Present. 


355 


without  leaving  any  deep  furrows  in  the  soil  of  the  coun- 
try. But  so  it  was  that  French  infidelity  was  provoked 
into  being  by  political  abuses,  cruelties,  and  pretensions, 
in  the  name  of  religion.  The  true  secret  of  its  power 
was  in  the  zeal  with  which  it  espoused  the  cause  of  jus- 
tice, freedom  and  humanity ;  till  in  French  literature,  and 
French  politics,  humanity,  justice,  and  freedom  became 
identified  with  infidelity.  The  French  language,  at  this 
time,  was  the  medium  of  European  intercourse.  It  was 
spoken  at  all  the  courts  of  the  Continent,  from  the  Eng- 
lish Channel  to  the  Bosphorus.  The  infidelity  of  Paris 
thus  met  with  a  rapid  and  universal  dissemination.  It 
spread  like  the  air  over  the  whole  of  Europe.  It  was  an 
assailant  which  no  police  could  stop.  Freedom  from 
superstition  was  counted  an  honorable  distinction,  a 
frontlet  of  divine  inspiration.  By  means  of  some  inex- 
plicable power,  the  altars  of  religion  were  deserted,  the 
mysteries  of  religion  were  performed  in  vacant  cathedrals, 
and  the  priests  themselves  smiled  at  their  own  credulity. 
At  this  juncture  there  arose  out  of  the  tumultuous  ele- 
ments of  European  society  that  great  aspirant,  whose 
military  and  political  tactics  were  destined  to  complete 
what  infidelity  had  begun.  To  the  eye  of  Napoleon  the 
Pope  of  Rome  was  little  more  than  any  other  sovereign 
and  man.  He  summons  the  Pontiff  to  Paris.  The  Pope 
threatens  him  with  excommunication.  Napoleon  heeds 
it  no  more  than  a  whiff  of  snow  when  crossing  the  St. 
Bernard.  The  bull  of  excommunication  was  issued.  It 
was  only  the  advertisement  of  Pontifical  imbecility. 
When  Gregory  VII.  excommunicated  Henry  IV.  of  Ger- 
many, his  subjects  felt  themselves  absolved  from  all  alle- 


3 $6  I . .  Thanksgiving. 

gianee  to  their  sovereign,  and  fled  from  him  as  if  he  had 
been  smitten  with  the  pestilence.  When  Pius  VII.  ex- 
communicated Napoleon,  not  a  corporal  left  the  French 
army.  Undiverted  from  his  purpose,  the  "  man  of  des- 
tiny "  strips  the  Pontiff  of  political  power.  The  Papal 
dominions  were  annexed  to  France.  The  French  flag 
waves  from  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo.  The  title  King  of 
Rome  is  conferred  by  the  French  Emperor  upon  his  in- 
fant son  ;  and  he  builds  for  him  a  sumptuous  palace  on 
the  Quirinal  hill.  The  Papacy  was  brought  so  low  as  to 
be  an  object  of  pity  rather  than  hatred  or  dread.  The 
time  came  for  reaction,  as  might  have  been  predicted. 
The  Pope  was  reinstated  by  the  allied  sovereigns.  Ex- 
iled prelates  came  back  to  Paris,  and  the  form  of  the 
prostrate  Church  was  lifted  up.  To  the  eye  it  has  been 
recovering  from  its  shame  and  depression.  With  all 
which  the  Papal  See  has  regained,  it  bears  no  resem- 
blance to  its  ancient  power.  Had  it  not  been  for  foreign 
protection,  the  present  Pontiff  would  have  been  thrown 
into  the  Tiber  by  the  inhabitants  of  his  own  metrop- 
olis. If  a  Pope  is  to  continue  to  reign  as  a  temporal 
Prince,  it  must  be  with  some  show  of  justice  and  free- 
dom. He  must  be  the  patron  and  defender  of  human 
rights.  Christian  faith,  which  at  the  close  of  the  last 
century  was  driven  out  from  continental  Europe,  has  re- 
turned with  a  better  discrimination.  Men  may  be  skep- 
tical as  to  the  Papacy  without  renouncing  belief  in  Chris- 
tainity.  Multitudes  now  deride  and  scorn  the  pretensions 
of  the  Roman  Pontiff  and  his  Church,  without  vaulting 
over  into  the  deism  of  Robespierre  or  the  frightful  athe- 
ism of  Clootz.     In   the   latest  revolution  of  Paris,  the 


The  Past  and  the  P 

crucifix  was  borne  in  advance  of  the 
Christ  was  hailed  as  the  gre'it  apostle  of  Fraternity, 
Equality,  and  Humanity.  The  next  action  is  already  in 
progress,  and  millions  will  learn  to  discriminate  between 
Christianity  and  Ecclesiasticism,  convinced  that  there  is  a 
religion  which  does  not  oppose  reason  and  justice  and 
progress,  but  is  the  grand  ally  and  defender  of  all  which 
concerns  the  true  welfare  of  man. 

The  sun  of  the  last  century  went  down  amid  murky 
clouds.  Terrible  signs  flashed  their  lurid  light  across  the 
darkened  skies ;  hecatombs  of  human  lives  were  sacri- 
ficed ;  but  who  can  doubt  that,  as  a  consequence  of  these 
unusual  commotions,  the  century  now  passing  is  distin- 
guished above  all  its  predecessors  for  the  increase  of  lib- 
erty, the  security  of  chartered  rights,  and,  as  a  necessary 
result,  a  greater  amount,  present  and  prospective,  of  in- 
telligence, industry,  peace,  order,  and  prosperity.  These 
convulsive  events  were  as  the  tornado  tearing  up  the  old 
forests  by  the  roots,  or  the  ploughshare  overturning  the 
soil.  It  was  the  day  of  preparation  ;  and  now  we  turn 
to  the  seed-time  and  the  harvest,  the  golden  fruits  which 
are  waving  on  a  thousand  fields. 

A  new  power  has  been  brought  into  operation  in  the 
principle  of  voluntary  association.  Men  have  clasped  each 
other's  hands,  and  by  means  of  united  strength  have  ac- 
complished what  before  had  been  left  to  solitary  hopes, 
and  individual  force.  The  world  had  not  been  wanting 
in  good  men  in  former  centuries  ;  but  their  agency,  to  a 
great  extent,  has  been  individual  and  independent.  There 
are  traces  in  their  writings  of  irrepressible  longings  after 
better  opportunities  for  aggressive  action.     No  sooner  had 


3  5  8  Thanksgiving. 

the  great  changes  to  which  we  have  adverted  taken  place, 
than  sagacious  men  felt  the  impulse  to  unite  their  ser- 
vices in  the  propagation  of  all  truth,  and  the  reform  of 
all  abuses.  No  recesses  were  suffered  to  remain  unex- 
plored ;  pretensions  are  questioned,  claims  investigated, 
and  inquiry,  by  its  ceaseless  and  corrosive  action,  is  wear- 
ing away  those  fetters  of  the  mind  which  keep  its  facul- 
ties dormant,  and  limit  the  range  of  its  powers.  Bishop 
Burnet  greatly  applauds  the  plan  projected  by  Oliver 
Cromwell,  for  instituting  a  council  in  opposition  to  the 
Propaganda  Fide  at  Rome.  But  it  has  been  well  demon- 
strated that  the  power  of  voluntary  association,  which 
combines  the  efforts  of  all  who  are  favorable  to  a  good 
cause,  is  mightier  in  its  results  than  any  influence  which 
a  single  monarch  could  exert ;  and  individuals  every  year 
accomplish  far  more  splendid  deeds  than  entered  into  the 
imagination  of  Cromwell,  in  his  truly  noble  conception. 
Thirty  years  ago,  Dr.  Channing  took  occasion  to  write 
against  this  increasing  power  of  association,  lest  it  should 
impair  individual  freedom  and  responsibility.  Wherever 
there  is  power,  caution  should  attend  its  use.  It  is  a 
poetic  fancy  to  suppose  that  all  the  beauty  of  private 
beneficence  belongs  to  the  days  of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley, 
English  squires,  and  patriarchal  estates.  We  believe 
there  is  more  of  private  charity  now,  than  there  was 
before  associated  power  began  to  change  the  face  of  the 
world.  This  is  an  influence  which  supplies  deficiencies 
of  individuals  and  of  governments,  in  attaining  ends  which 
they  cannot  reach.  It  is  a  greater  discovery  than  the 
mariner's  compass.  There  is  no  object  to  which  this 
power  cannot  adapt  itself,  no  resources  which  it  may  not 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  ^S9 

ultimately  command ;  and  a  few  individuals,  instead  of 
being  isolated  as  were  good  men  before,  can  lay  the  foun- 
dations of  undertakings  which  would  have  baffled  the 
might  of  those  who  reared  the  pyramids.* 

The  isolation  of  nations  in  former  ages,  was  obviously 
intended  by  God.  He  defeated  the  purpose  of  those 
who  sought  to  centralize  power  on  the  plains  of  Shinar. 
Diversities  of  languages,  a  range  of  mountains,  a  river  or 
a  sea,  separated  and  secluded  tribes  and  nations.  Quick 
and  easy  communication  is  a  feature  of  these  times  of 
fraternity  and  humanity.  Little  did  the  first  observer, 
who  watched  the  rattle  of  the  lid  on  a  tea-kettle,  from  the 
power  of  confined  steam,  dream  what  changes  would  be 
wrought  in  the  world  by  that  new  agent,  which  then  forced 
itself  on  his  attention.  Little  did  James  Watt,  the  Duke 
of  Bridgewater,  Earl  Stanhope,  his  eccentric  sister,  Lady 
Hester,  and  Robert  Fulton,  when  experimenting  upon 
several  scientific  properties  and  practical  uses  of  vapor, 
conceive  that  they  were  God's  agents  for  bringing  about 
some  of  the  greatest  moral  revolutions  of  the  world. 
When  at  last,  in  the  year  1807,  Fulton  succeeded  in  get- 
ting under  weigh  the  little  steamboat  Clermont,  with  her 
head  up  the  Hudson — a  few  are  yet  living  who  remembei 
well  the  jeers  and  jests  of  the  day, — highly  gratified  as 
he  was  with  the  success  of  his  experiment,  little  did  he 
imagine  that  he  was  giving  to  the  world  a  providential 
agent,  which,  by  the  stroke  of  a  piston,  was  to  diffuse 
knowledge,  liberty,  and  religion  over  all  the  earth. 

*  Douglas  on  the  Advancement  of  Society  in  Knowledge  and 
Religion. 


3  6o  Thanksgiving. 

Read  the  almost  plaintive  words  of  Richard  Baxter, 
— the  scarcely  uttered  hope  cherished  by  him  that  the 
time  might  come  when  access  could  be  had  to  the  Orient, 
— and  say  if  God's  hand  is  not  in  this  unlooked-for  pro- 
pinquity of  the  nations.  Along  the  Bosphorus,  this  new 
agent  is  breaking  down  the  rigidity  and  breaking  up  the 
apathy  of  the  Turk.  Doubling  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
it  has  startled  the  sleep  of  the  Bengalese  and  Chinaman. 
By  its  unconscious  working  in  the  Mediterranean,  the 
Black  Sea,  and  the  Eastern  Oceans,  it  has  done  more  to 
diffuse  intelligence,  liberty,  and  life  than  any  other  provi- 
dential power  whatever.  It  is  a  power  which  does  not 
belong  exclusively  to  commerce.  Commerce  !  Why,  it 
is  itself  God's  agent.  The  great  sea  was  not  intended  to 
be  a  mere  manufactory  of  whale  oil,  or  a  road  for  the 
transportation  of  cotton  and  tobacco.  It  is  a  highway  of 
emerald  and  sapphire  for  the  footsteps  of  Christianity. 
Henceforth,  nothing  is  done  in  a  corner.  Nothing  is  too 
remote  to  escape  attention.  The  steamers  which  crowd 
their  way  through  stormy  seas,  the  roads  of  iron  which 
bind  whole  continents  together,  the  clicking  wires  which 
run  their  electric  net-work  through  the  air  and  beneath 
the  ocean,  are  the  great  nerves  of  human  sympathy,  and 
are  destined  to  the  high  office  of  uniting  the  whole  race 
of  man  in  a  loving  brotherhood. 

Nothing  which  is  familiar  to  us  strikes  us  as  wondei 
ful.  Surprise  wears  away  in  time  from  the  greatest  dis- 
coveries and  inventions ;  and  we  send  thought  through 
the  air,  and  ride  in  carriages  without  horses,  and  in  ships 
against  the  wind,  just  as  carelessly  and  composedly  as 
though  such  things  had  always  been.     Fletcher,  the  old 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  361 

dramatist,  was  counted  as  half  crazy  when  he  put  into  the 
mouth  of  Arbaces  this  ranting  promise  : 

"  He  shall  have  chariots  easier  than  air, 
Which  I  will  have  invented  :  and  thyself, 
That  art  the  messenger,  shall  ride  before  him 
On  a  horse  cut  out  of  an  entire  diamond, 
That  shall  be  made  to  go  with  golden  wheels, 
I  know  not  how  yet." 

The  wonder  of  the  promise  has  long  ago  been  real- 
ized ;  and  if  the  poetry  of  the  dream  should  yet  come  to 
pass,  and  locomotives  cut  from  solid  diamonds,  and  car- 
wheels  wrought  from  gold,  should  become  common,  we 
should  ride  after  them  with  as  little  surprise  as  now  we 
walk  beneath  the  azure  and  the  gold  of  God's  glorious 
firmament.  Who  can  forget  the  feeling  of  aive  which 
came  over  him,  when  for  the  first  time  he  received  a  tele- 
graphic dispatch  from  a  distant  city,  transmitted  from 
New  York  to  New  Orleans  actually  in  advance  of  time 
itself !  This  approaches  spiritual  power  more  nearly  than 
any  thing  we  have  seen  and  handled. 

The  authors  of  the  Spectator,  the  Tatler,  the  Ram- 
bler, had  no  conception  of  the  modern  newspaper.  This 
is  one  of  the  most  wonderful  and  powerful  agents  of  our 
times.  It  is  dumb,  yet  it  tells  us  of  all  which  is  done 
upon  the  earth.  It  bears  in  its  own  name  the  initials  of 
the  four  points  of  the  compass,  N.  E.  W.  S. — news.  It  is 
the  great  dial-plate  on  the  clock  of  time.  Go  to  the 
archives  of  an  Historical  Society,  and  consult  an  old 
newspaper ;  let  it  be  a  file  of  the  Boston  News  Letter, 
commenced  in  April,  1704,  the  first  ever  published  on 
this  Western  continent.     Read  of  African  slaves  in  the 

w 


362  Thanksgiving. 

town  of  Boston, — perhaps  a  fresh  cargo  of  stout-limbed 
Guineamen  have  arrived  in  a  Newport  ship  :  turn  rapidly 
over  the  leaves  of  the  volume  ;  your  eye  catches  a  suc- 
cession of  great  names  and  events, — Benjamin  Franklin 
resisting  the  censorship  of  the  press,  and  making  the 
lightning  of  the  skies  a  pastime  for  himself  and  his  son, — 
tribute  money,  unjust  taxation,  mutterings  and  rebellion, 
Lexington,  Bunker  Hill,  Revolution,  Independence,  Con- 
federacies and  Constitutions,  Fulton's  humbug,  commerce, 
arts,  peace,  prosperity,  enterprise,  expansion.  May  we 
not  rightly  call  the  smutty  chronicle  the  index  finger  of 
Providence  pointing  to  the  hours  on  the  chronometer  of 
history  ?  An  artist  expends  great  time  and  labor  in 
painting  a  panorama,  and  crowds  find  delight  in  gazing 
upon  the  canvas  ;  yet  is  it  of  a  limited  space, —  a  ruin,  a 
river,  a  city, — Thebes  or  Jerusalem,  the  Nile,  the  Hud- 
son, or  the  Mississippi.  But  a  newspaper  is  a  daguerreo- 
tyye  of  the  whole  world, — its  warrings,  parturitions  and 
diplomacies,  its  buyings  and  sellings,  its  governments  and 
revolutions.  The  huge  telescope  of  Sir  John  Herschel 
is  so  swung  that  it  reflects  all  the  distant  wonders  of  the 
sky,  which  sweep  across  its  lenses,  upon  a  small  horizontal 
table  under  the  eye  of  the  observer ;  and  analogous  to 
this,  a  newspaper  brings  all  the  occurrences  of  remote 
continents  under  your  astonished  and  delighted  eye. 

Up  by  the  North  Pole,  among  seals,  whales,  and 
icebergs,  we  can  just  discern  a  scientific  party  endeavor- 
ing to  force  from  Eternal  Winter  its  ancient  secret,  and  to 
ascertain  if  there  be  not  a  new  way  of  getting  round  this 
small  globe  we  inhabit.  In  Africa  are  as  many  more, 
quite  as  vigorous  and  persevering  in  seeking  to  discover 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  363 

whereabouts  certain  rivers  take  their  rise.  Away  on  the 
Tigris  are  others  digging  up  old  Nineveh,  perhaps  the 
bones  of  Tiglath  Pileser  himself;  while  that  spot  on  the 
shores  of  the  Pacific,  resembling  the  life  and  activity  of 
an  ant-heap,  is  a  vast  company  of  what  Bunyan  would  call 
muck-rakes,  scrambling  for  gold.  Yonder  is  Professor 
Teufelsdrockh  demonstrating  to  a  gaping  auditory,  that 
"society  is  founded  on  clothes,"  that  man  is  God,  that 
it  is  better  to  walk  on  your  head  than  feet,  or  any  other 
conceit  that  bewildered  logic  may  happen  to  play  with. 
Are  you  fond  of  seeing  harlequins,  the  daily  journal  will 
please  your  fancy.  Do  you  like  spring-vaulting  and 
tumbling,  politicians  will  surprise  you  with  feats  of  agility. 
If  you  prefer  ledgerdemain,  the  wire-pullers  will  show  you 
enough  of  sleight  of  hand  ;  and  if  tragedy  is  to  your  turn, 
the  incendiarisms,  the  murders,  the  woes  and  the  wars  of 
this  sad  world  call  for  no  crocodile  tears.  And  if  you  have 
learned  to  look  at  all  things  with  the  calm  eye  and  sober 
judgment  of  a  Christian,  the  thing  which  most  interests 
and  delights  you  is  the  conviction  that  God  presides  over 
this  great  stage  of  life,  and  that  events  transpire  under 
his  direction.  Though  the  actors  are  not  automata,  yet 
their  several  parts  are  all  worked  into  one  great  design : 
scenes  the  most  startling,  disappointments  the  most 
depressing,  follies  the  most  extravagant,  are  all  overruled 
by  an  All-wise  Master,  and  are  hastening  on  a  catastrophe 
which  will  be  so  joyous  and  wonderful  as  to  fill  heaven 
and  earth  with  grateful  applause. 

The  newspaper  is  the  peculiarity  of  an  age  of  inter- 
communication, an  agent  of  human  sympathy.  What  else 
lies  at  the  bottom  of  this  conception  but  a  just  idea  of 


364  Thanksgiving. 

man's  fraternal  relations  ?  It  is  the  cheap  correspondence 
carried  on  between  all  members  of  the  human  family. 
What  a  man  puts  into  a  newspaper  on  the  other  side  of 
the  globe,  is  on  the  supposition  that  it  will  interest  the  rest 
of  the  family  on  this  continent.  As  we  learn  more  of  our 
fellow-men,  we  feel  a  kindlier  interest  in  them.  We  re- 
joice in  their  prosperity,  sympathize  in  their  calamities, 
and  cheer  on  their  struggles  for  the  right  and  the  good. 
There  are  now  too  many  newspapers  abroad  to  allow  a 
man  to  live  like  a  snail.  They  enlarge  the  world  to  our 
knowledge  and  our  love.  Why  is  any  thing  made  public 
but  on  the  belief  that  it  will  be  of  interest  to  many  others  ? 
Why  is  it  announced  in  your  paper  that  Isaac  and  Rebecca 
were  married  on  a  certain  day  last  week,  but  on  the  sup- 
position that  it  will  give  you  pleasure  to  know  it  ?  And 
when,  lower  down  on  the  sheet,  under  that  startling  word 
Deaths,  your  eye  runs  along,  always  with  apprehension 
lest  it  fall  on  some  well-known  name,  and  reads  that  the 
aged  father,  the  young  child,  the  beloved  wife,  the  rich, 
the  poor,  the  admired,  the  honored,  and  the  beautiful  are 
gone,  is  it  not  taken  for  granted  that  even  strangers  will 
heave  a  sigh  for  the  afflicted,  and  the  world  respond 
in  sympathy  to  the  incursions  of  a  common  foe  ?  Read 
in  this  light,  the  commonest  advertisements  which  crowd 
our  papers  have  a  kindly  odor  about  them.  Say  not,  with 
a  cynic  sneer,  as  though  you  were  doubtful  whether  there 
was  any  thing  honest  in  the  world,  when  a  store-keeper 
advertises  his  wares,  that  it  is  all  sheer  selfishness  ;  for  if 
it  is  pleasant  to  one  to  announce  a  fresh  supply  of  tallow 
or  wool,  hardware  or  muslins,  is  it  not  just  as  pleasant  to 
some  other  one  who  wishes  to  know  it  ?     When  a  brace 


The  Past  and  the  Present,  36$ 

of  young  partners  in  trade  insert  their  virgin  advertisement, 
informing  the  world  how  happy  they  shall  be  to  wait  on 
customers,  can  you  read  it  without  entering  into  their 
fresh  hopes  and  giving  them  your  blessing  in  their  new 
career  ?  Business  advertisements  !  Waste  paper !  You 
know  not  what  you  say.  Those  ships  which  are  to  sail 
to  every  harbor  in  the  world,  those  fabrics  which  have  ar- 
rived from  every  commercial  mart  on  earth,  this  iron  from 
Russia,  tea  from  China,  wool  from  Smyrna,  fruit  from 
Malaga,  coffee  from  Cuba,  cotton  from  Georgia,  sugar 
from  Louisiana, — do  they  not  preach  to  us  at  the  corners 
of  the  streets,  at  the  entering  in  of  the  gates,  on  our 
docks,  and  in  our  custom-houses  and  exchanges,  sermons 
on  the  mutual  dependence  of  mankind  ? 

Charles  Lamb  has  a  very  humorous  conception,  in  a 
letter  to  an  acquaintance  at  New  South  Wales,  on  the 
difficulty  of  corresponding  in  a  free  and  friendly  manner 
with  one  at  so  great  a  distance,  comparing  it  to  the  effort 
of  talking  through  a  tube  to  the  man  in  the  moon.  It 
was  a  playful  conceit ;  for,  in  sober  judgment,  the  facilities 
for  communication  between  distant  parts  of  the  earth 
have  destroyed  the  old  confusion  of  ideas  about  longitudes, 
latitudes,  and  differences  of  time  ;  the  tubes  are  connected 
between  the  different  apartments  of  our  Father's  house, 
as  they  are  in  our  modern  architecture,  so  that  the  fresh- 
ness of  sympathy  and  ardor  of  love  are  not  lost  in  the 
great  and  dividing  sea.  How  much  time  elapsed  before 
the  exploit  of  Leonidas  at  Thermopylae  was  known  west 
of  the  Tiber  we  cannot  divine.  Scarcely  was  the  first 
blow  struck  by  Garibaldi,  before  every  eye  was  turned, 
every  ear  alert,  every  heart  alive ;  for  the  daily  visitant  at 


366  Thanksgiving. 

our  dwellings  made  all  personal  spectators  and  participa- 
tors in  the  scene.  The  school-boy  in  Vermont  and  Ohio, 
in  his  weekly  declamation,  has  rehearsed  with  emotion 
the  noble  sentiment  of  Blum  on  the  morning  of  his  exe- 
cution : 

"  Whether  it  be  the  scaffold  high, 
Or  in  the  battle's  van  ; 
The  proper  place  for  man  to  die 
Is  where  he  dies  for  man." 

Patriots  struggle  not  alone.  What  occurs  on  the 
Arno  or  the  Tiber  rouses  the  sympathies  of  all  mankind. 
Nor  do  these  expend  themselves  in  useless  emotion. 
They  create  a  sentiment,  and  establish  a  law  to  which  all 
actions  must  be  referred  and  by  which  they  must  be 
judged.  The  more  of  ubiquity  is  given  to  what  men  do, 
the  more  certain  is  it  that  they  will  be  held  accountable 
for  what  they  do.  "  They  that  be  drunken  are  drunken 
in  the  night."  The  frantic  cruelties  of  the  world's  Cali- 
gulas  and  Borgias  were  perpetrated  in  darkness ;  but  as 
light  spreads,  and  the  conviction  gains  ground  that  what 
is  done  to-day  in  a  closet  will,  ere  the  sun  rises,  be  pro- 
claimed upon  the  house-tops,  that  conviction  must  work 
for  the  suppression  of  cruelty,  for  the  shame  of  tyranny, 
and  the  triumph  of  truth  and  goodness. 

That  freedom  of  opinion,  of  which  the  newspaper  is 
the  symbol,  is  looked  upon  by  many  with  apprehension. 
There  is  no  subject  concerning  which  men  are  so  slow  of 
heart  to  believe  as  liberty.  At  first  even  good  men  are 
afraid  of  it.  They  handle  it  as  they  would  an  animal  in 
a  cage.     They  open  the  door  by  little  and  little.     They 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  367 

are  afraid  to  let  the  bolt  fly  clear  back,  and  let  go  of  the 
chain  and  the  collar  for  ever.  Had  the  band  of  Pilgrims 
who  founded  the  Massachusetts  colonies,  who,  for  the 
sake  of  freedom  of  conscience,  sacrificed  homes,  churches, 
and  universities,  foreseen  the  time  when  papers  advocating 
infidelity,  agrarianism,  Fourierism,  prelacy,  the  Papacy, 
the  wildest  and  the  most  arrogant  follies  of  Church  and 
State,  would  everywhere  be  tolerated,  they  would  have 
started  back  aghast ;  and  we  know  not  but  such  an  un- 
expected glimpse  of  the  concealed  purposes  of  Providence 
would  have  led  them  to  hail  the  Mayflower  as  she  weighed 
her  anchor,  to  take  them  back  for  shelter  under  the  sur- 
plice of  Archbishop  Laud.  In  the  year  1723  the  news- 
paper called  "  The  New-England  Courant"  established 
by  James  Franklin,  as  an  organ  of  independent  opinion, 
was  censured,  interdicted  and  stopped,  "  except  it  first  be 
supervised."  "I  can  well  remember,"  writes  Increase 
Mather,  then  more  than  fourscore  years  of  age,  "  when 
the  civil  government  would  have  taken  an  effectual  course 
to  suppress  such  a  cursed  libel."  You  cannot  stop  the 
sun  at  the  horizon.  If  men  are  dazzled  by  liberty,  the 
proper  cure  is  liberty.  There  can  be  no  true  freedom  for 
what  is  good,  except  there  be  freedom  for  what  is  bad. 
The  best  mode  of  refuting  sophistry  and  mischievous 
opinions  is  to  let  them  come  forth  to  the  light.  We  have 
no  wish  that  enemies  should  sap  our  foundations  in  secret, 
and  spring  a  mine  on  us  stealthily.  Let  them  think  aloud. 
It  is  better  to  give  vent  to  mephitic  gases  into  the  air 
than  confine  the  explosive  elements  in  subterranean  gal- 
leries. If  a  man  really  intends  to  overturn  and  re-organize 
society,  advocating  community  of  property,  the  dissolution 


368  Thanksgiving. 

of  the  family,  reducing  the  human   race  to  a  herd  of 
animals  in  broadcloth,  let  him  avow  his  purpose  in  a 
public  newspaper,  and  if  the  result  be  not  the  complete 
frustration  of  his  scheme,  the  demonstrated  futility  of  his 
project,  it  will  only  be  as  there  is  no  power  in  truth,  and 
no  right  in  equity.     Truth  never  has  suffered  in  a  fair  and 
open  discussion.      Weapons  which  seem  to  pierce  her 
ethereal  form  through  and  through,  leave  her  spiritual 
body  unharmed.     There  is  many  a  man  with  a  conceit  in 
his  brain,  for  whom  the  best  prescription  would  be  that 
he   should   publish   it.     For  the   mischief  done   to   the 
unwary  we  greatly  deplore  that  so  many  vipers  should  be 
brought   out  from  the   kindling  fires   of  freedom ;   but, 
because  of  this,  we  cannot  consent  that  the  fires  should 
be  put  out  and  we  be  left  to  freeze  on  desert  islands. 
When   the   warm   sun   of  summer   is   up,  it  brings   all 
unclean   and    creeping    things   to    life.      The   grass   is 
full  of  all  manner  of  vermin ;   so  is  the  bark  of  great 
trees.     The  adder  crawls  out  of  his  hole  to  bask  in  the 
glowing  heat,  but  whole  harvests  of  grain  overtop  and 
conceal  the  mischief;  the  forests  are  growing  taller  and 
taller,  and  fruits  are  ripening  on  every  tree.     Just  so  is  it 
beneath  the  genial  warmth  of  freedom.     If  incidental  evils 
are  developed,  if  the  loathsome  agencies  of  infidelity  are 
warmed  into  life,  do  not  forget  that  beneath  the  same 
vital  heat  the  rich  verdure  of  a  continent  is  springing  up 
higher  and  higher,  and  the  trees  of  righteousness,  the 
planting  of  the  Lord,  are  striking  their  roots  the  deeper 
and  spreading  out  their  fruitful  boughs  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth. 

Now  we  see  the  bearing  of  providential  agencies  in 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  369 

increased  facilities  for  international  intercourse  on  the 
prospects  of  the  world.  America  is  no  longer  the  un- 
known and  remote  land  it  was  when  discovered  by  Co- 
lumbus. It  is  near  to  all  the  world  and  all  the  world  is 
accessible  to  it.  Regarded  as  the  home  of  hope  and 
freedom,  furnishing  ample  room  in  which  stifled  millions 
may  breathe  and  live,  immigration  has  set  in  like  the 
tides  of  the  sea.  The  immigrant,  finding  his  most  san- 
guine hopes  surpassed,  has  reported  to  those  behind  what 
he  has  seen  and  accomplished.  Millions  on  the  Rhine 
have  heard  of  it.  France  and  Switzerland,  Norway, 
Belgium,  Holland,  Ireland,  Wales,  England  and  Scotland, 
Italy  and  Hungary,  Poland  and  Sweden,  have  all  experi- 
enced that  electric  sympathy  which  has  reacted  from  the 
log-cabins  which  their  emigrant  population  have  reared 
in  the  new  settlements  of  the  New  World.  These  last 
are  not  beyond  talking  distance  with  their  old  homes. 
St.  Louis  is  within  ear-shot  of  Hamburg.  The  wires 
touch  between  New  York  and  Berlin.  Indeed,  we  cannot 
judge  of  events  by  their  first  appearance.  Look  at  the  Pu- 
ritans of  England,  when  suffering  under  the  Five-mile  Act, 
and  you  might  esteem  them  the  objects  of  Divine  dis- 
pleasure. But  the  world  was  not  to  come  to  an  end  until 
God  had  most  gloriously  vindicated  his  justice  in  the 
ultimate  honor  and  prosperity  of  those  who,  for  a  time, 
were  called  to  the  endurance  of  suffering  and  hardship. 
These  institutions  which  are  now  stretching  away  to  the 
setting  sun  ;  these  blessings  which  brighten  and  enlarge 
around  us,  are  but  a  part  of  those  results  which  Provi- 
dence has  connected  with  the  fortitude  and  fidelity  of  the 
noble  men  who,  ages  ago,  willingly  suffered  in  testimony 
16* 


3  7  o  Thanksgiving. 

of  truth.  The  extent  of  our  territory,  and  the  growth  of 
our  institutions,  can  surprise  none  more  than  ourselves. 

One  cannot  but  be  amused  in  reading  a  book  on 
America,  by  an  English,  French,  or  German  traveller,  even 
though  he  aims  at  great  accuracy ;  for  before  he  can  reach 
home  and  pass  his  volume  through  the  press,  his  statis- 
tics are  all  obsolete.  A  single  jar  changes  the  whole 
kaleidoscope.  On  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  a  nation  has 
been  born  in  a  day ;  a  populous  State,  inhabited  by  the 
young,  the  enterprising,  the  bold  and  energetic,  looks  out 
from  the  "  Golden  Gate  "  upon  the  astonished  East ;  and 
this  from  a  territory  which  a  few  years  ago  was  not 
known  by  name  to  the  Republic,  itself  the  abode  of  semi- 
civilized  vagrants. 

But  the  greatest  of  changes  have  been  moral.  The 
effect  of  the  Revolutionary  war  was  most  disastrous  on 
the  morals  of  the  country.  Voltaire  has  said,  "  Put  to- 
gether all  the  vices  of  ages,  and  they  will  not  come  up 
to  the  mischiefs  and  enormities  of  a  single  campaign." 
Added  to  these  common  effects  of  war,  French  infidelity 
had  been  imported,  and  the  virus  had  spread,  infecting 
many  of  the  leading  men  of  the  country.  The  deistical 
writings  of  Ethan  Allen  and  Thomas  Paine  had  acquired 
an  immense  popularity,  all  the  greater  from  the  memory 
of  Ticonderoga,  with  which  the  former,  and  the  political 
treatise  of  "  Common  Sense,"  with  which  the  latter  was 
associated.  The  scale  is  now  turned.  The  sentiment  of 
the  nation  is  decidedly  in  favor  of  Christianity.  The 
secular  press,  to  a  great  extent,  recognizes  and  honors  it. 
The  old  falsehood  that  infidelity  is  necessarily  associated 
with  freedom  and  progress,  is  here  abjured.     Christianity 


The  Past  and  the  Present.  371 

has  her  ablest  advocates  in  all  departments  of  intellectual 
and  physical  science ;  her  firmest  believers  among  the 
intelligent  friends  of  popular  progress.  Statesmen  and 
merchants,  men  of  thought  and  men  of  action,  have  grad- 
ually been  working  their  way  to  the  conviction  that  the 
Christian  religion  is  the  best  aid  and  promoter  of  secular 
improvement,  and  whatever  is  done  to  give  to  its  institu- 
tions a  broader  basis,  is  a  sure  pledge  of  all  national 
prosperity. 

All  the  agencies  for  good  which  have  been  men- 
tioned are  yet  in  their  infancy.  Their  power  will  be 
reduplicated  in  time  to  come.  Progress  for  the  future, 
under  these  organized  and  providential  instrumentalities, 
must  be  vastly  accelerated.  It  is  the  certainty  of  yet 
greater  advancement  which  gives  to  our  times  the  brightest 
aspect.  What  recoils  and  reactions  may  be  thrown  into 
intermediate  history,  we  cannot  predict.  That  such  things 
should  occur  in  our  career  accords  with  the  general  course 
of  Divine  procedure.  But  episodes  stop  not  the  drama, 
nor  eddies  the  current  of  the  stream.  The  course  of  the 
world  and  the  country  is  onward  and  onward  still. 
Remote  deserts  unknown  to  us  in  the  solitudes  of  the 
West  will  soon  smile  under  the  culture  of  happy  freemen. 
Flocks  of  sheep  and  herds  of  cattle  will  supplant  the  elk 
and  the  buffalo.  Natural  obstacles  to  intercourse  will  be 
removed ;  the  Rocky  Mountains  will  be  tunnelled,  and  the 
two  oceans  will  be  joined  together.  The  banks  of  our 
rivers  and  the  shores  of  our  lakes  will  shine  with  opulent 
cities ;  commerce  will  whiten  our  waters  j  agriculture 
cover  a  continent  with  wheat  and  corn,  and  places  now 
unknown  to  civilized  man  will  resound  with  all  the  hum 


372  Thanksgiving. 

and  stir  of  busy  life.  The  school-house  and  the  church, 
those  engines  and  hopes  of  freemen,  will  be  reared  fast  as 
the  forest  drops  before  the  march  of  enterprise. 

The  day  of  universal  jubilee  will  surely  come.  Every 
year  bears  the  world  nearer  to  its  promised  Sabbath. 
Generations  pass  from  the  earth,  but  time  does  not 
stop.  Man  and  the  -world  he  inhabits  are  subject  to 
change,  but  the  Word  of  the  Lord  endureth  for  ever. 
The  rocks  may  be  worn  away  by  the  encroachments  of 
the  sea,  the  mountains  levelled  by  the  attrition  of  ages, 
the  stars  may  lose  their  light  and  the  sun  his  glory,  but 
the  promise  of  God  standeth  sure  and  changeless  on  its 
immovable  foundations.     "He  shall  come  down  like 

RAIN  UPON  THE  MOWN  GRASS  \  IN  HlS  DAYS  SHALL  THE 
RIGHTEOUS  FLOURISH,  AND  ABUNDANCE  OF  PEACE  SO 
LONG  AS  THE  MOON  ENDURETPI.  He  SHALL  HAVE  DO- 
MINION FROM  SEA  TO  SEA,  AND  FROM  THE  RIVER  UNTO 
THE    ENDS     OF    THE     EARTH.       HlS    NAME   SHALL   ENDURE 

FOR  ever;  His  name  shall  be  continued  so  long 
as  the  sun  :  and  all  nations  shall  be  blessed  in 
Him.  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God,  the  God  of  Israel, 
who  only  doeth  wondrous  things,  and  blessed  be 
His  glorious  name  for  ever,  and  let  the  whole 
earth  be  filled  with  His  Glory.  Amen  and 
Amen." 


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